Perception
by CountOnIllusions
Summary: He had everything he wanted, power and immortality. But he never forgot what he'd lost. If you asked him if he rued it, he'd say there's no room for repentance or contrition where there's not even a conscience. But although he felt no remorse that didn't mean he didn't regret. Sometimes you only know what you've had when you lose it. Sometimes it needs loss to inspire perception.
1. Regrets and decisions

**Author's note:**

 **This is the sequel to my story "Poison" and I guess it's necessary to have read "Poison" for "Perception" to make sense, so please feel invited to read "Poison" first if you haven't done so yet ;-)**

 **Perception**

 **Chapter One - Regrets and decisions  
**

 _15 years later_

Tom was standing in the living room of Malfoy Manor and was looking out of the window. He had just ended a meeting with his Death Eaters. The news concerning the prophecy about the one person that would be able to vanquish him had been alarming. Bellatrix was still hovering in the room trying to gain his attention and wanting to comfort him. Tom sneered. She definitely was his most loyal servant but she would never learn to see his true self. She would never learn that he didn't need to be comforted, that he didn't want to be comforted. It was times like these that he wished he had had better control of his temper that fateful night fifteen years ago. The inexplicably strange force that had joined his magic back then had never subsided. It was constantly with him, constantly fuelling him but, unfortunately, also constantly reminding him of the way he had deliberately destroyed what he had originally come to preserve. He snorted, thinking about the irony of that night. He had come to prevent her death and in the end it had been he himself who had taken her life, the one life that had ever been special to him. No one had ever been like her again. Even after he had finally left the shadows and had started to openly show the darkness that reigned inside of him, no one saw him the way she had seen him. No one had ever been faithful to him the way she had been. She had known about his darkness and still she had truly cared for him. His Death Eaters knew about his darkness but they didn't care for him, they simply feared him. And even Bellatrix wasn't the same. She had an insane idea of love and only lived to serve him. He cruelly dominated her and she desperately craved that.

Tom had tried to forget what had happened, had tried to discard it as negligible but the force that was constantly running through his veins seemed determined to prevent that from ever happening, mocking his inability to save what he had only ever truly cared for.

Tom exhaled sharply. He tried to imagine what she would have thought about the prophecy. She had always been so sensible. She would have discussed the prophecy's meaning with him until things would have made sense. The prophecy was concerning his downfall. This was important. He had to make sure he made the right decision.

Bellatrix was still pacing behind him. He suddenly turned around and hissed, "Stop moving."

Bellatrix instantly halted. "Of course, my lord, just as you wish, my lord."

Tom sneered at her. She was standing there, not daring to move an inch. He felt satisfaction wash over him. He drew his wand and brandished it slightly, hissing, "Crucio". He watched her pain emotionlessly. He was torturing her just for his pleasure and yet somewhere deep inside he knew that her tormented screams somehow eased his own pain. When he finally lifted the curse, Bellatrix crawled towards him on her knees, bowing to him. Tom suppressed a contemptuous smirk. She would even thank him for torturing her. She was just as pathetic as all the others.

* * *

That night Tom decided to visit the place he had once created when he had returned to England shortly after graduation, the place where he had spent so many hours with her. She had called it his lair and, actually, he couldn't think of a more accurate word to describe it. The loud crack of his Apparition tore the silence that had graced the place for more than two decades. Everything still looked the same as when he had left it the night after he had murdered Hepzibah Smith. He had never returned. Tonight, however, he finally wanted to be there again. He sat by the fireside and lit the fire with a flick of his wand. His gaze fell on the empty parchment that lay on the table in front of him. He took it and turned it with his long pale fingers. He could still smell her blood. If only he could talk to her about the prophecy. If only she would be somewhere around. Unfortunately, apparently her soul had left this world. He snorted. Of course he had done this just as perfectly as everything else. He felt his temper flare. Why ever had she provoked him so much? She should have known his temper. She should have known he would curse her. She should have known better. Tom exhaled sharply, realization finally dawning on him. He narrowed his eyes. Of course she had known he would curse her. She had probably even counted on it. Tom clenched his fist, crumpling the parchment in his hand. She had been ready to die either way that night but this way she had finally succeeded in making him realize…their connection.

Tom leaned back and let his mind wander, bringing back memories long since forgotten. They had had good times, the two of them, their magic and their books. They had read, studied and experimented with so much enthusiasm, always trying to outdo the other. They had been so alike, and yet so different. While he was thinking about it, he vaguely remembered her telling him a story she had once read when she had been trying to find alternative ways to immortality. It had been a children's tale and he hadn't paid much attention, because, after all, it was only a fairy tale. And yet he remembered her excitement when she had told him about the Deathly Hallows. Suddenly, Tom's mind sped up. He also remembered the three Hallows; the wand, the stone and the cloak. He frowned. The stone. It was said to be able to bring back the dead. He had never seen the necessity to bring back the dead but that had been…before. What if the stone was able to bring her back? Tom flicked his wand, summoning a book from the shelf behind him, and quickly started reading. When his gaze fell on the symbol drawn next to the tale he raised his eyebrows. He knew that symbol; he had seen it before, but he hadn't paid attention. A moment later he was on his way to Little Hangleton. It didn't take him long to retrieve Marvolo's ring from the Gaunt's shack. He turned it in his hand. There it was, the symbol, engraved on the stone. He snorted. He had tried so many spells on the ring before he had turned it into a Horcrux but he had never thought that this stone might be one of the Hallows. Tom pocketed the ring and returned to his lair. Sitting in his armchair again, he stared at the ring for a long time, wondering if he should really try it. Then curiosity got the better of him. He turned the ring thrice and pictured her to return. He had just made the last turn when he couldn't quite believe his eyes. It had actually worked. He stared at her face. She looked the same as on the night when he had killed her. Cassiopeia stared back at him. Neither of them said a word. Tom tried to decide what she was. She was more than a ghost but less than a living being. But she was there.

"It's been a long time." He felt stupid for his words but he couldn't think of anything else. After all, she was the first of his victims with whom he could talk after killing them.

"You have changed even further." Cassiopeia gazed at him. "I don't think I want to know how that happened." She gestured vaguely at him.

Tom couldn't suppress a smirk. "Losing you has been hard on me."

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. "Your lies used to be better. But I guess you're done with your charming masquerade. I'd say your darkness is finally showing."

"The world has changed," Tom stated.

"Probably you mean to say you changed it. You know I'd really have preferred if you had changed the world without changing yourself. But I think we already discussed that before you…succumbed to your fury."

Tom pressed his lips together. There was a moment of silence before Tom hissed, "If anything, I can assure you that in the end it made me understand."

The ghost of a smile flickered across Cassiopeia's face. She looked at the ring which he was still holding in his hand. The black stone glimmered slightly and finally Cassiopeia recognized it for what it was. The Resurrection Stone. She glanced at Tom. He had actually been able to use it. He had been able to bring her back. It seemed she couldn't have been so wrong about him, after all.

"You had the stone all this time?"

"I only realized it tonight."

"So, why tonight?" Cassiopeia asked.

After a moment Tom answered, "I wanted to talk to you."

"And then you realized that, unfortunately, you killed me? How lucky that you possessed the Resurrection Stone all along." Cassiopeia's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Tom huffed, "Can't you just sit?"

"If I can sit? I don't know. I'm dead after all." Cassiopeia glared at him.

Tom flinched almost unnoticeably. "I don't remember you being so resentful. Let's just sit like…before."

A look of hurt crossed Cassiopeia's face. Then she shrugged and sat down beside him. After a moment Tom started telling her about the prophecy. When he had finished, there was a long silence. Finally, Cassiopeia stated in a humourless voice, "I'm afraid I can't help you. Neither of us ever believed in these future telling things. But maybe we shouldn't have skipped Divination."

Tom stared at his hands and his jaw clenched. "I need to prevent this prophecy from fulfilling."

"I fear that when you act upon it you're only going to start fulfilling it." Cassiopeia looked at him. Then she added with a hint of sadness in her voice, "I have to leave now. But I want you to know that I never wanted things to turn out like this."

Tom nodded but kept staring at his wand in his hands. When she was gone, Tom murmured, "I didn't want it this way either."

* * *

After further investigations Tom came to the conclusion that there were only two options as to whom the prophecy was about. It had to be either the Longbottoms or the Potters. When Tom had finally decided that the Potter boy was his target and he told his Death Eaters to hunt the Potters down, Severus reacted in a strange way. Obviously, everybody knew that the Potters needed to be killed but Severus seemed unusually tormented by the thought. When all the Death Eaters filed out after the meeting, Severus stayed behind, asking Tom for a word in private. Tom eyed him with his cold eyes, pondering the request. Out of curiosity he finally granted him his wish. At first Severus stammered incoherently about the prophecy. When Tom was already on the verge of losing his patience, Severus finally came out with his plea and begged him to spare the Potter woman's life. Tom instantly sneered in regard to this pathetic wish and was about to laugh at the ridiculous request when he caught a glimpse of the pain in Severus' eyes and the laughter stuck in his throat. Tom didn't quite know what happened but the pain in Severus' eyes vehemently reminded him of something he had buried somewhere very deep inside his memory, something he had tried so hard to forget and yet he simply couldn't get rid of. It reminded him of the excruciating pain he had felt the night when he had killed her. The sneer was wiped off his face and he pursed his lips. He stared at Severus for a long moment before he replied, "I will offer her the chance to be spared. That's all I can promise."

* * *

It was Halloween 1981 and Tom was standing in the Potter's house in Godric's Hollow, in the boy's room. James Potter had put up a courageous fight but in the end he had stood no chance and Tom had blasted him away. Lily Potter turned out to be a problem. Tom had already offered twice to spare her if she only stood aside and let him have a go at the boy. But the foolish woman didn't move. Tom felt his temper flare. He tried one last time, but it was in vain. Tom's eyes turned red and he cast the Killing Curse without further thinking. The split second before she was hit by the curse he saw this gleam in her eyes, strong and powerful. Then she fell and her eyes were empty. Tom turned towards the boy and raised his wand again but just when he was about to cast the fatal curse he suddenly felt as if he was missing something important. He lowered his wand again, staring at the boy in his cot. He swore under his breath. This wasn't good. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. He knew he needed to kill the boy, but he hesitated, his mind racing. He narrowed his eyes and glanced at the ring on his hand. He had taken to wearing it again ever since he had realized its true origin. He snorted and swore again. Then he took off the ring and slowly turned it thrice.

Tom stared at Cassiopeia. Cassiopeia looked at Tom, then at the boy and at the woman on the floor and finally back at Tom. She slightly raised an eyebrow. "I'd say you got yourself into trouble."

"You used to be less cheeky," Tom huffed.

"I guess that's the consequence of having nothing to lose." She looked at the boy again. "Obviously you didn't want to be alone with the boy."

"I have to kill him," Tom spat.

"Surely you don't need me for that?" Cassiopeia asked sarcastically.

Tom ignored her sarcasm. "Do you think it's safe?" Tom stared at Lily Potter's body on the floor.

Cassiopeia threw him a questioning glance. "Did I miss anything? It's a baby."

Tom scowled at the boy. "You missed the way I killed his mother. Severus wanted me to spare her and I intended to do so because….well, doesn't matter why, but I asked her to stand aside and the foolish woman wouldn't move."

Cassiopeia sneered. "And that surprised you? You threaten to kill her son and you expect her to step aside? I thought you said you understood something that night when you killed me."

Tom pursed his lips. "Anyway, I killed her, there's no changing that now. But the moment before she was hit by the curse there was something in her eyes, something….I don't know."

Cassiopeia stared at Tom. For once, his face was not as blank and emotionless as usual and Cassiopeia could see frustration shining in his eyes. She looked at the woman's body lying on the floor next to her baby's cot for a long time. Finally she whispered, "I know you won't like it but she died to protect her son. I think that by asking her to step aside you made her sacrifice herself for him. I may be wrong but I don't think you will be able to kill him. You should never raise your wand against him. It's dangerous. It's going to destroy you." Her voice trailed away. Tom glared at the boy and Lily, anger and fury spreading in his body, and he lost his temper at last. In his rage his magic burst uncontrollably from his wand, curses dashing violently in all directions, making the room explode with light, leaving him, Cassiopeia, Lily and the boy being surrounded by waves of thundering magic burning like fire.

Tom was furious, deeply furious. This wasn't the way all of this was supposed to be. This wasn't the way he had originally pictured all of this to be. He had always craved power and immortality, nothing more, nothing less. To be fair, he had achieved power and immortality, but there was no denying that he had truly wrecked himself impressively along the way. Tom's eyes were burning like fire. He hated his continuous restlessness and his unpredictable capriciousness; he hated the way his usually sharp mind turned hazy time and time again, depriving him of his grip on his thoughts much too frequently. He hated that he had killed the one person who had ever truly cared for him, and unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried to ignore this disturbing fact, being also the only one he had ever come close to caring for, and now he had even botched his chance to prevent the bloody prophecy from fulfilling. He swore loudly, sending a last blowing curse at what was left of the wardrobe.

Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows. "Once upon a time you were better at keeping your temper in check."

"I know," Tom growled, "Once upon a time everything used to be better."

A sad smile crossed Cassiopeia's face. "Once upon a time you made all the wrong choices."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "Maybe you're lucky you can't be killed twice."

Cassiopeia looked into Tom's eyes. They were blazing red. She flinched. She had always loved his dark eyes. "I'm aware that you've never been one for receiving criticism but maybe you should try to figure out when things started to…..go wrong."

Something akin to surprise flashed through Tom's eyes. Then he asked, "Any suggestions?", his voice full of sarcasm.

Cassiopeia didn't think twice. "I'd say the creation of Horcruxes was wrong."

Tom immediately shook his head. "No. There's no other way to immortality. I've figured out that much in the past decades."

"Well, maybe then it was wrong to create five Horcruxes. One would have been enough to gain immortality."

"One isn't safe enough," Tom countered.

Cassiopeia sighed. "You're difficult. But you definitely shouldn't have turned the diadem into a Horcrux and least of all the cup and the locket."

Tom exhaled sharply. "I shouldn't have killed you."

Cassiopeia moved closer. "Maybe you wouldn't have, if you had never created those last Horcruxes."

He stared at her. Then he looked away and he felt his temper flare again. "This is useless. Things are the way they are."

"Are they?" Cassiopeia whispered softly. "You claim to be the greatest sorcerer in the world. Shouldn't you be able to find a way to fix this?"

He watched her move even closer but just when he thought he would be able to feel her touch, she was gone. Tom stared at the boy with whom he was now alone again. Then he grabbed the boy and disapparated from the ruins of the house.

* * *

At Malfoy Manor he charged Narcissa with taking care of the boy and went to the library. He sat there contemplating for a long time. When he finally got up, he had a plan. He didn't know if it was going to work but he definitely thought it was worth a try. He knew he still craved power and immortality above all things but he was aware that his way of achieving his aims had had some flaws, to say the least. He wanted a second chance at this. He was certain that this time he wouldn't make the same mistakes. He only needed to make his teenage self realize that it wasn't wise to create more than two Horcruxes. He had yet to figure out how to accomplish that but there had to be a way. He already had an idea when to interfere and he knew he couldn't afford to waste time. Deep inside he suspected that maybe his plan was insane but somehow he had grown obsessed with the desire to make himself even greater by amending the mistakes that had occurred along the way, the second she had first planted the idea in his mind. He had obtained a time-turner long ago. After all, there wasn't any kind of magic he hadn't experimented with, no field of magic he hadn't explored. He had modified and refined the time-turner until it provided the possibility of travelling back years instead of only hours but he had never even considered using it. He had never seen the benefit of travelling in time. He had kept the time-turner only to insure against his enemies. The time-turner would be able to take him back to November 1943, the time when he had created his second Horcrux. He only had to work out how to convince his younger self that it was destructive to create too many Horcruxes. He vividly remembered the night when he had turned the diary into a Horcrux. He remembered the disastrous longing for Cassiopeia's touch he had felt back then. He had never been able to truly forget, no matter how hard he had tried; and he had tried really hard. Back then, his sixteen year old self had considered this longing to be a despicable weakness and he had vowed to never show this weakness again. To be fair, he had never been able to prevent the longing from flooding his body whenever he had created a Horcrux ever after, but he had always tried to ignore it and had regarded it as the only flaw in his otherwise flawless self. Tom knew that he probably had to admit that he had been quite wrong. The night when he had cast that fateful curse on Cassiopeia he had finally had to learn that there were emotions besides the familiar hatred that were unbelievably powerful. He had to admit that he still marvelled at the power of this strange force that had invigorated his magic ever since. If he only got his teenage self to accept the longing as part of something bigger, something stronger than what he had originally thought it to be. He was aware that this would undoubtedly turn out to be difficult. After all, he needed to convince a stubborn boy who had never known any feelings besides hatred and contempt; a boy that believed he wasn't able to feel anything besides the familiar hatred and contempt; a boy that strongly believed that feelings were nothing but weakness. But, maybe, if he had known about the power that came with allowing this kind of emotion, he wouldn't have wasted his time trying to ignore all the disastrous effects that creating the Horcruxes had on his self. Instead he might have gained access to this unlimited power much earlier. Tom finally made up his mind. He wanted to know what would have been. He wanted to make his stubborn teenage self see the truth. He wanted to gain infinite power and immortality without losing himself on the way.


	2. Turns and suspicion

**Chapter Two - Turns and attacks  
**

When Tom stood in the Forbidden Forest, outside the range of Hogwarts' protective charms, and turned the rings of the time turner he felt truly excited for the first time since many years. He had shortly pondered if he should send someone else instead of going back in time himself but nobody knew about his Horcruxes and it was crucial that things remained that way. Besides, the quest was going to be difficult and if anyone was going to succeed, it was himself. He took a deep breath and let go of the rings. The time turner started spinning, sending him back in time. He had to admit that it wasn't exactly pleasant. When the spinning finally stopped, Tom found himself still in the same part of the Forbidden Forest as before. He quickly strode towards the castle. It was already past curfew and he would be able to slip inside easily. After all, he knew every inch of this castle. When he entered Hogwarts it felt like coming home. A smirk crossed Tom's face. He quickly went to the second floor girl's bathroom and descended into the Chamber of Secrets without being disturbed by anyone.

* * *

Cassiopeia was on her way to the Great Hall for dinner when she heard someone call her name. She turned around and saw Avery hurrying after her. She slightly raised an eyebrow and waited until he was next to her.

"I've got a message for you," he said, holding out a folded parchment. She took it with a questioning look but before she could ask anything he had already rounded the next corner. Cassiopeia stared after him for a moment. Then she opened the note. It was empty. She frowned and tapped it with her wand. She watched as the writing appeared. 'Meet me in the Chamber tonight after dinner. Never mention this note or you are going to regret it. Don't question this, just do it.' Cassiopeia's frown intensified. It was Tom's handwriting and there were instructions on how to open the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets by faking the necessary command in Parseltongue but she didn't understand why Tom would send her this strange note. When she entered the Great Hall she glanced at the Slytherin table but Tom was nowhere to be seen. She took a seat at the Ravenclaw table and repeatedly eyed the Slytherin table during dinner but Tom didn't show up. When she had finally finished, her curiosity got the better of her and she went to the second floor girls' bathroom. She locked the door and cast a Silencing Charm. Then she turned to the sinks. Tom's instructions actually worked and the entrance to the Chamber opened.

When Cassiopeia entered the Chamber, she instantly knew what Tom had done. He was kneeling on the floor and the Chamber was filled with the excruciating screams of an agonizingly tormented soul. Cassiopeia slowly stepped into the hall, her footsteps echoing loudly. Tom looked up and straight into her eyes. For a second she saw something like surprise in his eyes. The next moment it was gone and his eyes were burning like fire. He scrambled to his feet and with a few quick strides he closed the distance between them, pushing her hard against the wall and pressing his lips against hers.

For a moment Tom wondered why she was there and how she had been able to get into the Chamber but then all the questions that were trying to invade his mind were washed away by the burning desire to hold her and be as close to her as he could possibly get. He felt her responding to his kiss, holding him and pulling him close. His mind screamed at him to push her away but he couldn't find it in himself to even move, neither wanting to let go of her nor wanting her to let go.

The older Tom watched them from the shadows of the Chamber, a smirk on his face. He could vividly imagine the frustration his younger self was experiencing. He was out of his own control again, just like it had been the first time. He saw his younger self wanting nothing more than to pull away and yet not being able to even move as if paralysed by some much stronger force. He knew that having to experience this weakness once again was tormenting him much more than all the pain that came with splitting his soul ever could.

When Tom and Cassiopeia finally pulled apart, they were breathing heavily, oblivious to the man who was watching them from the shadows. They stared at each other. Cassiopeia could see the questions burn in Tom's eyes. Obviously he didn't know anything about the note, even though it had been his handwriting. She would recognize it anywhere. After a moment Tom slightly shook his head and hissed, "You shouldn't have come." Then he turned on his heels and left Cassiopeia staring after him.

* * *

When Tom left the Chamber he was beyond furious. She wasn't supposed to get into the Chamber. Only a Parselmouth could get in there. Obviously she had imitated the commands in Parseltongue. She had to have remembered how he had opened the Chamber when he had taken her down there the last time although he had to admit that it was hard to believe that she could recall the correct hissing sounds from only hearing once. But there was no other explanation. Tom felt his temper flare dangerously. She had had no right to invade his privacy like this. She had had no right to see him so disgustingly weak again. She had had no right to make him act all foolishly and irrationally again. And yet, worst of all, it had felt so unbearably right again although he still thought it was nothing but wrong. Absentmindedly he traced his lips with his fingers, desperately trying to make sense of something that was unfathomable after all.

* * *

The next evening Tom and Cassiopeia had prefect duty together. Cassiopeia was nervously waiting for Tom at the bottom of the Grand Staircase. He had not spoken to her the whole day. Instead he had only eyed her suspiciously. Cassiopeia didn't understand what had happened. After all, it had been him who had told her how to get into the Chamber. But obviously he didn't remember and she didn't dare to ask. When he arrived at the meeting point he only nodded curtly and they started patrolling the ground floor corridors. Cassiopeia swallowed. This was going to be an unpleasant evening. They walked in deathly silence until they suddenly heard a door creak. Quickly, they both drew their wands and rounded the corner. Tom shot Cassiopeia a glance and nodded towards a door that led outside. The door was ajar. Slowly they approached the door and Tom threw it open with a flick of his wand. There was no one to be seen. A cold November breeze came in through the door. Tom was about to close the door again when they heard low noises outside.

"There's someone there," Cassiopeia whispered. Tom quirked an eyebrow at her stating the obvious but didn't say anything. He wrapped his cloak around himself and stepped outside, his wand drawn, a look of annoyance on his face. Cassiopeia quickly followed suit. They silently walked into the darkness. Tom cast a non-verbal Lumos but they still didn't see anyone. Finally, Tom's patience was beginning to run out.

"Who's there?" he called, his voice sharp and cold. By now they were nearing the greenhouses. Cassiopeia was about to suggest that they should return to the castle when she suddenly saw a jet of blue light soaring towards her. She ducked just in time and the curse missed her. She looked at Tom aghast. Tom had stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes narrowing and trying to find the source of the attack. Without warning another curse came darting towards Cassiopeia. She quickly cast a shield which absorbed the curse and died away. The next curse was directed at Tom. He deflected it easily with a flick of his wand but his eyes were burning with rage.

"What do you think you are doing?" Tom shouted, his voice trembling with fury. He was itching to curse whoever it was that dared to attack them but he still couldn't locate where their opponent was hiding. Tom hurled multiple curses towards the greenhouses. Suddenly they heard someone laugh. Tom gritted his teeth, his magic crackling violently around him.

"Stop being a coward and show yourself if you want to fight," he called into the darkness. For a moment nothing happened. Then they saw someone emerge from behind the greenhouses and move towards the Forbidden Forest. Tom instantly shot a wave of curses in the figure's direction but their opponent moved quickly, dodging all the curses. Cassiopeia and Tom kept casting curses, trying to stop whoever it was but the stranger countered their attacks effortlessly before he suddenly and relentlessly struck back, hurling several well aimed curses towards them. Cassiopeia and Tom instantly cast Shield Charms but there were too many curses to fight them off. Cassiopeia's shield shattered under the attacking curses and a flash of purple light hit her straight in the chest. She gasped and fell to the ground, losing consciousness. When Tom saw her fall, he clenched his jaw and his eyes turned a blazing red. The wrath that was raging inside of him multiplied infinitely. He furiously slashed his wand at the unknown attacker, curses leaving his wand relentlessly, his magic growing stronger with every blow, the power of it vividly pulsing through his veins, burning to be set free and take revenge. Tom was overwhelmed by the wave of unbounded power that was flooding him. His magic exploded from his wand and Tom watched contentedly as one of his curses finally hit and their attacker vanished in a wall of fire. Then his gaze fell on Cassiopeia's unconscious body and he felt an unfamiliar twinge in his stomach. He quickly moved closer and tried to feel her pulse. She wasn't breathing and her heart wasn't beating.

The older Tom stood hidden by the shadows of the trees at the edge of the Forbidden Forest and watched his younger self staring at Cassiopeia's lifeless body. There had been no need for duelling his teenage self any longer since his curse had hit Cassiopeia just as planned so conveniently straight in the chest, although he had to admit that the sudden increase of power within his younger counterpart's magic had been truly impressive and duelling him would surely have been a pleasure. Nevertheless, he had let one of the younger Tom's curses hit a shield he had conjured and made it explode in a wall of fire giving him time to disappear to the forest. He watched as young Tom lifted Cassiopeia up and carried her to the castle.

Tom walked quickly, his mind racing. He could sense the dark magic of the curse that had hit Cassiopeia. He instinctively knew that this was powerful magic. He was almost certain that Madam Malcolm wouldn't be able to deal with a curse like that because, after all, she normally only had to cure injuries that tended to occur at school. That implied that she usually wasn't required to counteract offensive Dark Magic. As much as he hated to admit it, he was sure that if there was anyone who could help Cassiopeia, it was Dumbledore. He pressed his lips together and quickly carried her to Dumbledore's quarters. When he arrived there he exhaled sharply, shortly wondering if there really was no other option, before he finally knocked on the door. After a moment Dumbledore opened the door and a look of alarm crossed his face when his gaze fell on Cassiopeia's limp body in Tom's arms. Dumbledore immediately took her from Tom's arms and carried her to the sofa. He carefully laid her on the cushions before he turned to face Tom again. "What happened to her?" he inquired, his voice full of suspicion.

Instinctively, Tom arranged his features into an expression of pure innocence. His voice was calm and even when he replied, "We were on prefect duty patrolling the ground floor when we saw an open door, sir. We went outside to check and then someone attacked us. She was hit by a curse. I tried to defend us and the attacker disappeared." Tom's voice trailed away and he realized how implausible his story sounded. He suppressed a scowl. For once, he was actually telling Dumbledore the truth and it turned out to be more unconvincing than his worst lie could ever have been. Obviously, Dumbledore didn't think much of the story either. He slightly raised an eyebrow and scrutinized Tom's face carefully. Then he held out his hand and said with a firm voice, "Show me your wand, Tom."

Tom tensed and felt his temper flare. He glowered at the older wizard and snorted, "You're wasting valuable time. It's not me who did this." Only to himself, in his mind, he added venomously, 'Even you should know that if it had been me I surely wouldn't have come to you and certainly nobody would ever have found her. And at least I would have made up a much better story.'

But Dumbledore didn't waver, his hand still prompting Tom to hand over his wand. "Your wand, Tom."

For a second, Tom stared at Dumbledore's outstretched hand, thinking how much he hated that suspicious fool, how much he hated having to ask him, of all people, for help. Then he gritted his teeth and reluctantly pulled his wand from his pocket. He thrust it into Dumbledore's hand and hissed, "If you insist, then check it, but just go ahead and help her." His eyes flickered towards Cassiopeia. His voice was barely audible when he added, "Please."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and thoughtfully looked at the wand in his hand. Then he laid it on his desk and took his own wand, examining Cassiopeia closely.

Tom stood there staring at the man he hated most of all, his mind completely blank. He watched Dumbledore try different spells, repeatedly trying to feel Cassiopeia's pulse and listening out intently for any sign of breathing. Dumbledore had seen curses like this before. They were advanced Dark Magic. They interrupted all vital signs of the victim. Breaking them required the true desire to remove the curse. Unfortunately, this curse seemed to be somewhat different because although Dumbledore definitely had the true desire to remove the curse, it didn't work. Dumbledore frowned. Seeing this Tom slightly raised his eyebrows. He felt his magic running through his veins, pulsing steadily and reassuringly but also burning with an intensity he had never known before. He felt his temper flare again. He wanted Dumbledore to act at last, to make her breath again, to make her bloody heart beat again. He wanted to find whoever had done this and rip them into pieces. He wanted to see the person responsible being burnt to death by this fire that was raging inside his veins. He wanted to make them pay. Tom's face was as empty and emotionless as always but his magic was growing stronger with every moment that he kept staring at Cassiopeia's lifeless body. With astonishment he realized that, strange though it was, he truly wanted to save her. Suddenly, a thought crept into his mind. What if she had actually been right? What if there was really some ray of light somewhere deep inside of him, under all the darkness? He narrowed his eyes and slowly moved closer towards Dumbledore and Cassiopeia. Dumbledore raised his head and looked at him as if only just realizing that he was still in the room. Tom didn't take his eyes off Cassiopeia. He wondered if he might actually have it in himself to save, instead of only destroy. Finally, he cleared his throat. "I saw that purple light hit her. It went straight through her shield and I failed to protect her." He knelt down beside Dumbledore and snapped, "We can't afford to fail again."

Dumbledore stared at Tom as if he was seeing him for the first time. Then he collected himself and brandished his wand at Cassiopeia once again, muttering under his breath. Finally, he bent forward and pressed his hand against Cassiopeia's temple. After a moment of listening he sighed and whispered, "She's breathing." Tom's features didn't change. He kept looking at Cassiopeia with his dark eyes devoid of any emotion. He didn't feel anything, no satisfaction, no relief. His mind told him that nothing had changed. But the magic that was thundering through his body knew better.

* * *

Dumbledore took Cassiopeia to the Hospital Wing and instructed Madam Malcolm to monitor her closely. Then he returned to his quarters. Tom was still waiting in front of the door. When Dumbledore threw him a questioning glance, Tom said through clenched teeth, "You still have my wand, professor." Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Oh, yes. Wait here, Tom." Then he entered his quarters and closed the door behind him. He took Tom's wand that was still lying on his desk and examined it closely. There was no trace of the curse that had hit Cassiopeia. The last spell that had been cast with the wand had been a Shield Charm. Maybe it really hadn't been Tom who had attacked her. Dumbledore sighed and stared at the yew wand for a long time. At last he opened the door again. Tom was leaning against the opposite wall, his hands in his pockets. Dumbledore offered him the wand and said, "It seems I've been mistaken this time." Tom pushed away from the wall and wordlessly pocketed his wand. When he was about to walk off towards the dungeons, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "You truly surprised me tonight, Tom. Honestly, I must admit that I'd never have thought that you'd be capable of the necessary affection to counteract that curse. And yet you saved Cassiopeia's life."

Tom glared at the older wizard and pressed his lips together. His voice was again devoid of any emotion when he replied, "Maybe I'm not as predictable as you expected."

Dumbledore eyed him warily. After a moment he said, "Very well then, Tom. Off you go."

Tom nodded slightly and mumbled, "Good night, sir."

* * *

Cassiopeia had to stay in the Hospital Wing for two days until Madam Malcolm considered her fit enough to return to her dorm. When she was walking back to Ravenclaw tower, Tom suddenly appeared seemingly out of nowhere. A look of surprise crossed her features but before she could say anything, he wordlessly pulled her into a deserted classroom and in an instant he had pinned her against the wall.

"How did you know I was down in the Chamber? How did you get in there?" he hissed, his eyes boring into her.

Cassiopeia stared back at him and her surprise was replaced by annoyance. "I can't tell you." She tried to push him away but he didn't loosen his grip. He leaned in closer and she could feel his breath on her skin. His voice was deadly calm when he whispered into her ear, "There is no way I will let you go before you tell me." He pushed her hard against the wall again, his body only inches away from her. She could feel the heat of his body and she wanted nothing more than to tell him. 'Never mention this note or you are going to regret it.' She knew it by heart. There was no mistaking the note. But if he had written it then why didn't he remember? Why was he so keen on finding out? She frowned. He tightened his grip once again, looking at her with unblinking eyes, intent on staring her down. She held his gaze and hissed, "Let go. You're hurting me." To her utter surprise she saw something strange flash through his eyes and felt him loosen his grip ever so slightly, but he didn't move, keeping her trapped between the wall and himself.

"You must tell me how you knew," he pressed intently. "Someone attacked us out there and I need to know if there's a connection."

Cassiopeia swallowed and bit her lip. "Please don't do this."

Tom still didn't move. "Why don't you trust me?"

Cassiopeia knew he was shamelessly manipulating her. She knew he knew exactly what to say to make her give in and yet she felt her resolution waver. "Please don't. There's no connection between how I got into the Chamber and the attack."

"How can you be certain about that?" Tom inquired.

There was a moment of silence. Cassiopeia was very much aware he had a point there. How could she be certain? Why didn't he remember? She exhaled sharply. She couldn't believe that he actually always got what he wanted. Without breaking their eye-contact she hissed, "Because it was you who told me how to get in and when to go."

Tom instantly let go of her and backed away, his eyes shining with disbelief. Cassiopeia slowly pulled a crumpled note from the pocket of her cloak and tapped it with her wand. Tom took it and looked at it. It was written in his own handwriting, there was no doubt about that. Still he couldn't remember writing it. "I did not write this." He carefully turned the slip of paper in his hands examining it closely. "How did you get this?"

"Avery gave it to me."

Tom frowned. Then he turned to the door and hissed, "I have to find Avery."

But his interrogation of Avery didn't get him anywhere. One thing was certain – Avery had no memory of giving Cassiopeia the note. Tom had tried to find any sign of the crucial memory by asking, by threatening, by torturing and finally by using Legilimency but there was nothing to be found. Avery didn't know anything about the note. Tom racked his brain trying to come up with an explanation.

Meanwhile, the older Tom was slightly angry at himself. He knew that he should have known that Cassiopeia would confide in his younger self. After all, it had been her unwavering loyalty that had always made her special. Besides, he knew he should have taken into account that he himself had never been trusting in any way. He had always hated secrets that weren't his own. He had always been set on discovering the truth. He should have known that there had never been a chance that he would let anyone mess with him to such an extent without investigating. Tom had to admit that the unnerving suspicion of his younger self was bound to complicate things, but even though it was annoying, it was not truly unexpected. Tom smirked. After all, he knew himself to be a worthy opponent.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, favouriting and following! You really make my day!**


	3. Memories

**Chapter Three - Memories and souls  
**

The next morning after Ancient Runes Tom stopped Cassiopeia before she could leave the classroom. "May I have a word with you?"

Cassiopeia nodded and followed him out of the classroom. Tom quickly led the way to the prefects' common room. They entered the empty room, and Tom locked the door and cast a Silencing Charm with a flick of his wand. Then he turned towards Cassiopeia, his wand still in his hand. "Avery didn't know anything."

"I told you, he gave me the note." Cassiopeia held his gaze.

Tom cleared his throat. "I wanted to ask whether you'd show me your memory."

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. "You wanted to ask, pretending I had a choice?"

Tom pursed his lips and eyed his wand, twirling it idly between his fingers. "I don't only pretend that you have a choice. If you don't want to show me I won't force you. I promised not to mess with your mind again, and I intend to keep my promise." He paused and looked up and into her eyes. A smirk crossed his face when he added, "Don't ask me why because I don't know."

There was a long silence. Cassiopeia wondered what had happened that night out on the grounds. Unfortunately, Tom had vehemently refused to tell her. She gazed into the fathomless depths of his dark eyes, and finally she sighed. She knew that she had already made her decision a long time ago. Judging from his smug expression he obviously knew that as well. Wordlessly, she turned around and walked over to the window. Tom slowly followed her, still twirling his wand. Cassiopeia sat on the windowsill. She took a deep breath and said, "Well then, I'll show you." She closed her eyes and braced herself for the familiar piercing pain, while trying to concentrate on lowering her mental shields. But when she finally felt him enter her mind, it was nothing like the last time. She could sense that Tom was truly struggling to be gentle. She tried to suppress her astonishment and quickly shoved the memory of Avery giving her the note to the front of her mind, shielding her thoughts from his view.

Tom caught a glimpse of her surprise before it was replaced by the memory he had asked for. He concentrated and looked at the memory again and again, trying to find anything of importance. After a while Cassiopeia opened her eyes and found Tom standing right in front of her, staring blankly at her face, completely absorbed in reliving her memory. Cassiopeia couldn't help thinking how deceptively innocuous and innocent he looked, with this expression of intense concentration on his face. For a moment she desperately wished this peaceful deception were real and things were easy. She wished he were standing there, truly looking at her, truly seeing her, not staring at some memory inside her mind, effortlessly using advanced magic he actually wasn't even supposed to be capable of yet.

Then he blinked, and she felt him retreating from her mind. He leaned against the windowsill beside her, obviously lost in his thoughts.

"Did it help?" Cassiopeia asked at last.

Tom took a long time to answer. "There was something about the way Avery….moved….and behaved." He paused. "I think someone put him under the Imperius Curse. Whoever did this probably also cast a Memory Charm, erasing Avery's memory." Tom's voice trailed away.

Cassiopeia glanced at Tom. "But who? And why? And how did he get the note with your handwriting on it?"

Tom absentmindedly twirled his wand between his fingers again, a frown on his face. "I don't know."

* * *

Tom lay on his bed in the Slytherin dorms and tried to get his thoughts straight. Whoever had sent that note to Cassiopeia and had attacked them out on the grounds knew a lot about him, actually quite disturbingly so, and was truly skilled at magic. The stranger had successfully cursed Avery, though Tom had to admit that this part was not overly impressive, and he had somehow acquired a paper with Tom's handwriting on it. Tom suspected that his handwriting could probably be faked by using magic, but still the stranger had to be quite close to him to do so. Then the stranger had attacked him in the very moment when he had felt weakest, during the procedure of creating a Horcrux. He had to have known what he was doing, as well as when and where. And he had to have known how to get into the Chamber because otherwise he wouldn't have been able to give the necessary instructions to Cassiopeia. Furthermore, he had to have known about the prefects' patrolling schedule and their rounds. And, finally, he had actually dared to attack them out on the grounds.

Tom was certain that there was no way that all of this was a coincidence. Someone was obviously trying to mess with him. And, grudgingly, he had to admit that it was working. Whoever it was, he had exactly known how to succeed. There was no denying that his well-organized world was shaking heavily. Someone knew of his weakness and was exploiting it shamelessly. Tom felt his temper flare. He desperately wanted to be back in control. He wanted to know how all of this was even possible. He wanted to understand. He gritted his teeth. None of this made any sense to him. The incredible way his magic had vibrated that night, the way it was strengthened even now, all of this was truly impressive. Unfortunately, so was his failure to understand what had happened. Tom snorted. He was absolutely not used to failing, and there was no way he was going to accept failure now. For all he knew, all of this had started with the stranger's attack. Tom remembered the strange twist in his stomach when he had seen Cassiopeia being hit by that curse. For a fraction of a second he had caught himself worrying, hoping that she wasn't dead. He slightly flinched at the memory. Fortunately, the unfamiliar feeling had instantly been replaced by a wrath he had never experienced before. It had made him feel so much stronger, so much more powerful, so much more alive. It had made him fully aware of the potential of power that was lurking beneath the surface, a potential of power that intrigued him immensely. Whatever the source of this power was, he craved to conquer it. He only had to work out how. He knew that Dumbledore didn't grow tired of preaching about the power of certain emotions that provided an ancient kind of magic beyond his understanding, but he had always been appalled by the immanent weakness of a power that was triggered by emotion. There was no room for anything like that in his existence; there had never been any need for it. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he wasn't capable of loving or even caring, and he had always been proud of his emotional detachment. And yet he had somehow gained access to this strange power that he had just caught a glimpse of, that night out on the grounds. So maybe love wasn't necessary, maybe this connection between Cassiopeia and himself, whatever it was, would be enough to eventually grant him full access to these means of power that, combined with his own dark kind of magic, would finally make him invincible. Tom exhaled sharply, and a genuine smile spread across his face. He would grow to be the greatest sorcerer this world would ever know, and not even Dumbledore would be able to stop him.

* * *

The older Tom slowly adjusted to being back at Hogwarts. Christmas break was drawing nearer and with it the Yule Ball that was held the weekend before the holidays. When Tom watched the students preparing for the ball, memories he had long since forgotten suddenly came floating back into his mind. He had delivered quite a successful performance that evening. Everything had gone according to plan, well, maybe except for the incident under the mistletoe. Tom's face turned into a sneer when he remembered Olive Hornby's dreadfully shrill voice and her bright red face. His sneer faltered a little when he remembered Cassiopeia's haunted look when she had felt him struggling to keep control of his magic. Clearly, those had been the first effects of his Horcruxes and, retrospectively, he realized that she had already known about the harm he had done to himself back then.

* * *

Christmas break came and went and young Tom still marvelled at the fact that he had actually managed to gain access to this strange kind of power without having had to succumb to such a despicable weakness as love. However, just as always, the increase of power came along with the constant fear of losing it again. But Tom was determined to secure this additional power. Although he still didn't understand how he had achieved to acquire it, he was well aware that Cassiopeia was connected to this in some way or other. As long as he didn't know exactly how, he knew he had to make sure that she would not deprive him of this power. Thinking about it, he had come to the conclusion that it would be useful if she created a Horcrux as well, just to be safe. Unfortunately, she wasn't nearly as motivated as he was.

Tom and Cassiopeia were sitting in the library. Cassiopeia had been writing her Potions' essay until Tom had started talking about his idea of her creating a Horcrux again. Tom had to admit that it wasn't going very well. He clenched his jaw. He simply didn't understand why she always snapped whenever he tried to persuade her. He didn't see the trouble of making a Horcrux. Of course she would have to kill someone but in the end the Killing Curse was only a curse, just like all the others. She was good at magic, she surely would be able to get it right. He wondered if it might be the pain that came with splitting the soul that troubled her. After all, she had witnessed his pain twice, and he assumed it had probably seemed quite scaring. "We could do it together. I'd prefer to have a third one anyway." Tom's voice was soothing and persuasive, but Cassiopeia only looked at him incredulously.

"You can't be serious," she said in a flat voice. "You already split your soul twice, and you still remain ignorant of the way it's damaged you. How can you even think about splitting it again? You achieved what you wanted, you're immortal after all. Don't destroy yourself further, Tom, or you're going to destroy both of us." Cassiopeia glared at him and pushed her chair back. She grabbed her things and turned to leave. Tom instantly got up as well, opening his mouth to retort something and stop her from leaving. But she shot him a warning glare and hissed, "Leave well enough alone at last!"

Tom watched as she stormed away, cold fury slowly building up inside of him. How could she dare to talk to him like that? How could he let her leave without reprimanding her? And why ever did he feel so damn cold at the thought of destroying her? He furiously slammed his fist against the stone wall and felt his magic burning inside. Once he had realized the way she influenced his magic he had known that he had to ensure that she would never leave him. He was determined to secure this newly gained power, and he would never allow losing it ever again. Unfortunately, there was a little flaw in his plan, because just as much as Cassiopeia was obviously able to render his magic more powerful, she also never failed to remind him that she had her own damn independent will and that she despised being dominated. Tom swore under his breath. Things had been a lot easier before he had come to realize this strange connection. He felt his temper flare dangerously. It was all this stranger's fault. It had all started with his interference. Tom had contemplated the identity of the stranger again and again, and by now he had a vague idea who he was, although, honestly, he had to admit that it didn't make any sense.

Finally, Tom's fury got the better of him, and he threw caution to the wind. He left the library and went straight down into the Chamber of Secrets, his wand drawn. When he stepped into the hall, he called into the darkness, "I know you're here. After all, where else would I go? I want answers! Why did you interfere? I had a plan, and it was good. Why did you tamper with me? You of all persons have to know that I don't love, that I cannot love. I was going to be great without the need of emotions. Why couldn't you just let me be the way I was meant to be? I don't want to end up weak and broken by emotions that I never wanted to have." Tom's voice echoed through the Chamber and finally died away. There was a long and heavy silence. Tom stood there, his wand in his clenched fist, waiting.

"You know nothing of broken, I can tell you."

Tom froze. The voice was cold and sharp and emotionless and so much like his own. He tried to determine where the voice was coming from but the echo of the hall made it difficult.

There was another long silence. Finally, the voice spoke again, "I knew you were clever enough to find out. I tried to prevent the silly girl from telling you, but I should have known better. I should have known she would never let you down when she suspected someone was plotting against you. I should have remembered that threats never worked on her."

Tom stared into the darkness, his mind racing. "You nearly killed her," he spat. "I wanted to rip you into pieces that night. I wanted revenge. How could you…," he stopped mid-sentence, realization suddenly dawning on him. He backed away and clenched his teeth. The echo of his words died away, and silence fell on the Chamber. "How do I know this is real?" he asked at last.

The laughter that instantly filled the halls of the Chamber was cruel and cold. It sounded insane and yet somehow familiar, and it made Tom's blood freeze.

"You don't know. You never will. Trust me that I don't expect you to change, and neither does she. But believe me, I know she would die for you. This is your chance to avoid making all the wrong choices. Don't wreck her. Don't wreck yourself. Don't waste all our lives. You owe me that."

There was silence again. Tom squinted into the darkness, still not able to make out where his counterpart was hiding. He pondered his options. There weren't many, really. He couldn't very well fight against himself. Of course there was a chance that all of this was just a charade, that all of this wasn't real, but Tom knew he couldn't afford to find out. Because if it wasn't fake, he surely didn't want to be the one to damage himself. Tom huffed and pursed his lips. This was frustrating. Then, without another word, he turned and left the Chamber, leaving the older Tom staring after him and slowly relaxing. That had been a close call. If it hadn't been for his perpetual fear of defeat he was sure that things might have ended differently. Yet, luckily, he knew himself to have always been amenable to the various opportunities that magic offered, rendering his younger counterpart ready to accept that things truly were what they seemed and thus being far too concerned to attack.

After leaving the Chamber, Tom went to the prefects' common room. His mind was still racing. Had his future self actually just tried to prevent him from creating further Horcruxes? Was it really that disastrous to split the soul into too many pieces? He couldn't quite believe it, and yet he didn't dare to neglect it, in case it was actually true.

Cassiopeia was sitting by the fireside, her legs drawn up on the sofa, her head resting on her knees. She hated arguing with Tom, but his obsession with immortality and Horcruxes had become hard to bear lately. She knew she was ready to follow him into whatever darkness he intended to lead just because of this indescribable effect his magic had on her. She knew that in the end it didn't matter if her feelings were wasted on him because she just couldn't help it; she knew she would never be strong enough to resist the burning longing to be around him and, more important, she didn't even want to. She could accept his murderous, vindictive, ruthless self, but she would never be able to kill someone just for the sole purpose of creating a Horcrux. She had seen what the procedure had done to Tom. She would never be ready to destroy her soul in order to gain immortality. When she heard the door open, she turned and saw Tom enter the room. She quickly turned back to the fire and desperately hoped he had not come to continue their conversation from earlier. He went over to the sofa and sat down opposite her. When he finally opened his mouth, Cassiopeia couldn't quite believe her ears.

"I'm sorry," Tom's voice was barely audible.

Cassiopeia's gaze shot up to his eyes, and she raised an eyebrow. "Are you feeling alright?"

Tom's mouth twisted into a smirk. "Don't worry. I can't believe myself that I actually said that." After a moment he added, "Don't expect me to say it ever again."

A smile flickered across Cassiopeia's face. She sensed that for once he had been honest, and it irrevocably sparked her hope that in the end, somewhere very deep inside, under all the darkness, Tom might actually be able to care for another being besides himself, even if only a little.


	4. Envy and salvation

**Chapter Four - Envy and salvation  
**

Astronomy class had stretched endlessly, and it was already past curfew. Cassiopeia was walking along a corridor towards Ravenclaw tower when she suddenly grew aware that someone was following her. She quickly turned around, only to find Andromeda Yaxley and Persephone Nott walking up behind her. Cassiopeia eyed the two Slytherin girls warily, her hand slowly reaching inside her cloak pocket and her fingers touching her wand. It surely meant nothing good that the two were following her through this deserted corridor this late at night. She had heard them whisper behind her back more than once, and things had finally gotten worse with the Yule Ball. Surely, Yaxley had hoped to end up as Tom's date for the ball, and she certainly felt that Cassiopeia had prevented that. Yaxley approached and eyed Cassiopeia spitefully.

When she was standing in front of Cassiopeia, Yaxley spat, "I want you to keep your filthy hands off my future husband."

Cassiopeia almost choked. Of all the things she would have expected Yaxley to say, this was certainly the most ridiculous and utterly most absurd thing to come up with. Cassiopeia couldn't stop a sneer from appearing on her face when she replied, "You can't be serious."

Yaxley snapped, "Of course I'm serious. Do you really think you stand a chance against me? Look at yourself, you're nothing special." She flipped her long blonde locks over her shoulder.

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. "If I'm not mistaken, Tom asked _me_ to the ball."

Yaxley glared at her, her voice venomous, "Don't you dare to claim that he asked you of his own free will. You somehow tricked him."

Cassiopeia's eyes grew wide with disbelief. Surely, even the self-centred Yaxley couldn't be as ignorant as to believe that Tom could ever be tricked into doing anything by anybody. Cassiopeia slowly felt her temper flare. Her hand tightened around her wand in her pocket, and she hissed, "I didn't _trick_ him. And if you only knew him just the slightest bit, you'd be aware that any such thing is absolutely impossible."

Yaxley screeched, "How do you dare say I don't know him?" Then she pulled her wand and motioned Nott to do the same.

But before any of them could cast a curse, Cassiopeia had already drawn her own wand and stunned Nott. Yaxley threw a panicked glance at her companion and frantically waved her wand at Cassiopeia. Cassiopeia deflected Yaxley's badly aimed curse with a flick of her wand. She couldn't quite believe that Yaxley had actually intended to curse her. She had never affronted Yaxley in any way, and she felt that Yaxley had no right whatsoever to attack her. But surprisingly that wasn't what irked her most. Cassiopeia's voice was icy when she replied, "You ask me how _I_ dare? How do _you_ dare to insult Tom like that?"

Without warning she quickly brandished her wand and sent Yaxley crashing into the opposite wall. Yaxley slumped to the ground and stared at Cassiopeia with wide eyes, panic visible on her face. Cassiopeia's eyes were burning with anger. "Expelliarmus!" Cassiopeia flicked her wand again, and Yaxley's wand soared through the air and right into Cassiopeia's hand. Yaxley fearfully scrambled to her feet, but Cassiopeia had already sent another curse, slamming the girl back into the wall. Yaxley's face contorted with pain. The next instant Cassiopeia was standing in front of her, her wand pointed at Yaxley's throat. "So let's talk again about who's nothing special," Cassiopeia hissed.

In this moment footsteps echoed along the corridor. Cassiopeia slightly backed away, but she didn't lower her wand. Yaxley's gaze darted over Cassiopeia's shoulder and instantly a wide smile spread on her face.

"Tom!" she gasped. "Thank Merlin you are here!"

Slowly, Cassiopeia turned around. Tom was standing in the corridor and eyed the scene with a smirk on his face.

He had been on his way back from Astronomy class, where he had stayed behind, talking to the teacher, when he had heard noises coming from nearby. He had decided to investigate, hoping it was someone he could frighten with his prefect badge and his wand. When he had entered the corridor, he had had to admit that he was slightly surprised.

He saw Yaxley hurled against the wall and looking at him as if he was her heroic knight in shining armour. Cassiopeia was standing a few feet away, her wand still pointed at Yaxley and her usually calm eyes gleaming with anger. A little further down the corridor Tom spotted Nott lying on the floor. Obviously, she was unconscious.

Tom slowly walked closer, his wand loosely in his hand, his dark eyes fixed on Cassiopeia.

Yaxley continued whimpering, "That Ravenclaw bitch cursed me. I think she broke my arm, and she's still got my wand. Imagine what she might have done to me if you hadn't shown up!"

Tom didn't take his eyes off Cassiopeia, a smirk still playing on his lips, when he replied, "I honestly regret that now I'll never find out."

Cassiopeia looked up and into his eyes.

Yaxley shrieked, "She attacked me, Tom! You have to punish her."

Tom moved closer towards Cassiopeia until he was standing right in front of her, his gaze still locked with hers. "Well, I'd say that's fifty points to Ravenclaw but, unfortunately, I think the house point rules don't allow this."

Yaxley obviously couldn't believe her ears. "Tom!" she begged with a whining voice that was heavily getting on Tom's nerves. Tom quickly flicked his wand at Yaxley, leaving her lying unconscious on the floor. He smoothly stowed his wand in his pocket before he closed his hand around Cassiopeia's wrist and made her lower her wand. "Obviously my darkness is finally starting to rub off on you."

His voice was so soft that it sent shivers down Cassiopeia's spine. She couldn't pull her gaze away from his dark eyes. They were suddenly shining with infinite greed, and he tightened his grip on her wrist and pulled her close. Cassiopeia felt his lips claim hers possessively, his body only inches away. She dropped Yaxley's wand and moved her free hand to his head, messing up his wavy dark hair and pressing her body against his. She felt him hold her even tighter, and she let herself drown in a wave of passion she would never have imagined him to be capable of.

When he finally slowly pulled away, his breath hot on her skin, he whispered, "Go back to your dorm. I'll take care of this mess."

Cassiopeia felt her heart beating rapidly, yearning for more, but she nodded and left without looking back. For a moment Tom stared after her. Then he picked up Yaxley's wand and stored it in the girl's pocket before he brandished his own wand at her, hissing, "Legilimens." A genuine smile graced his features when he relived Yaxley's memory of what had happened before he had shown up. After he had retreated from Yaxley's mind, he brandished his wand again and hissed, "Obliviate." Then he altered Nott's memory as well and levitated the unconscious girls unceremoniously back to the dungeons. Before he opened the door to the Slytherin common room he casually ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it down. Then he entered the common room. Thankfully, it was empty. He levitated the two girls onto a sofa and dumped them there before he went to his own dorm.

* * *

When Cassiopeia was lying in her bed that night, she wondered if Tom was right and his darkness was actually starting to rub off on her. The thought was truly disturbing. She had always been proud of her sense of fairness. Was she really starting to lose her conscience? She had only defended herself against Nott and Yaxley, hadn't she? To be fair, Nott had not even drawn her wand yet when she had stunned her, but Yaxley had actually attacked her. She had only cursed Yaxley in self-defence; that wasn't dark, that was fair, wasn't it? Cassiopeia pursed her lips. She knew that if she was honest she had to admit that the curses she had used had been more violent than what had been necessary to stop Yaxley's attack. And yet, she clung to the hope that there remained a difference between her and Tom because she had not started the fight, she had not gone looking for trouble and, most importantly, she had not cursed Yaxley just for pleasure. She had had a reason and Yaxley had deserved it. She frowned and wondered if Tom thought the same about his actions.

* * *

The next morning Ravenclaw and Slytherin were sharing double Potions. At the beginning of the school year Professor Slughorn had partnered them up according to their grades which had resulted in Cassiopeia and Tom sharing a table. While Tom was cutting the necessary ingredients for their potion, Cassiopeia looked at Yaxley and Nott who were sitting in their seats with bright red faces. Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin gang were sniggering and occasionally whistling at the two girls whenever Slughorn wasn't paying attention. Cassiopeia threw Tom a questioning glance but he deliberately avoided her gaze.

Finally, Cassiopeia asked, "What's happening there?"

Tom smirked and stirred their potion. "Maybe I gave them a few embarrassing memories concerning last night when I cast the Memory Charms on them."

"But what's Malfoy got to do with this?"

"Maybe I happened to slightly alter his memory as well, as he is so conveniently occupying the bed next to mine."

The corners of Cassiopeia's mouth twitched. "That's quite mean of you, don't you think?"

Tom's eyes were gleaming with darkness when he replied with his most innocent voice, "I'm sure you'd never cast such violent curses like the ones you used last night without good reason. And as I unfortunately had to erase her memory of your doings, I thought Yaxley deserved some punishment, particularly considering how very keen she was on seeing me punishing you." After a moment, Tom added, "And besides, it was the perfect opportunity to end her disgusting advances at me once and for all. Now, she'll never even dare to look at me again." He sounded satisfied.

Cassiopeia smirked. "And the devil you are she'll never even suspect that you're nothing like the knight in shining armour that she imagines you to be." Cassiopeia looked at him. "You truly have absolutely no conscience at all."

Tom grinned. "I know. And now stop staring at me and be of some help with this potion unless you want me to tell Slughorn that I had to do everything alone and you supported me in no way."

* * *

A few weeks later Dumbledore motioned Cassiopeia to stay behind after Transfiguration class. Tom watched with narrowed eyes as she gathered her things and went to Dumbledore's desk. He wondered why Dumbledore wanted to talk to Cassiopeia. Tom packed his things, deliberately taking his time, trying to listen in to their conversation.

"Professor?" Cassiopeia asked politely.

"May I have a word in private, Miss Houlton?"

"Of course, sir." Cassiopeia nodded and followed Dumbledore into his office. Tom watched them leave, anger stirring in his chest.

Dumbledore closed the door behind them and sat at his desk. "Take a seat, Miss Houlton." Cassiopeia carefully sat on the edge of the chair in front of his desk. She was tense, wondering what Dumbledore wanted. Dumbledore paused and eyed her for a moment before he said, "I wanted to talk to you because the summer break is approaching, and I think you are aware that you're probably going to be appointed Head Girl next year. Furthermore, I'm afraid that Headmaster Dippet will presumably have no choice than to make Mr. Riddle Head Boy, despite all my reservations."

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. Dumbledore watched her closely over his half-moon spectacles. The twinkle that usually sparkled in his eyes was missing. After a moment he sighed. "I've got to know you as a responsible, fair-minded and unprejudiced young witch, Miss Houlton, and I think that Headmaster Dippet is absolutely right if he chooses you to be Head Girl next year. Unfortunately, I can't say any of this of Mr. Riddle. I can assure you that normally I wouldn't discuss something like that with a student, and I have contemplated this carefully. But there are a few circumstances that were finally decisive. I surely wouldn't have this conversation with you if it hadn't been for the things I came to witness during the night when you and Mr. Riddle happened to get attacked out on the grounds."

Cassiopeia threw him a curious glance. A smile crossed Dumbledore's features. "I take it by your reaction that Mr. Riddle didn't fill you in on all the missing details, and I must say that I'm not surprised. But it's safe to say that for quite some time now I've come to realize that if there is anyone who could be of any influence on our probable future Head Boy, it's you. And this is also the reason why we're having this conversation. I want to ask you to use the considerable amount of time you are going to spend together with Mr. Riddle as Head Boy and Girl to give him the chance to see that there are moral values that have to be respected in order to make the world a place worth living in."

Cassiopeia stared at Dumbledore, her mind empty. This wasn't what she had expected him to tell her. Actually, she didn't truly know what she had expected but it surely wasn't him asking her to save the world from Tom. Cassiopeia swallowed. She had always liked the Transfiguration professor. But somehow she felt as if now she had to choose between Dumbledore and Tom. She knew it was irrational because all he had asked of her was showing Tom the importance of common moral values but she couldn't fight the feeling that in the end he wanted her to betray Tom's trust, making him abandon his desires.

When Cassiopeia remained silent, Dumbledore sighed again. "Finally, I also want to remind you to be careful because if Tom is only half of what I fear him to be, then this world and those around him are in great danger."

Cassiopeia's face was devoid of any emotion. After a moment she said politely, "I'll see what I can do, professor."

Dumbledore smiled sadly at her and replied, "I'm sure you will."

* * *

After Cassiopeia had left Dumbledore's office she slowly went back to the Ravenclaw common room, contemplating Dumbledore's words. Deep inside she knew that Dumbledore was right. Tom was going to be a great danger to the world. His disdain for life, his extraordinary magical talent and his insatiable desire for power made a disastrous combination that was bound to reduce the world to ashes one day. But Cassiopeia knew she had to face the truth. She was far too deep entwined in his web to ever be able to leave it again. Moreover, she severely lacked the determination to do so. And there was no denying that she had to take full responsibility for this. After all, she had entered his web willingly; he had in no way tricked her into his fangs. She had sold her soul to the devil with her eyes wide open. She shortly wondered if there was a chance that Dumbledore was actually right about her being able to prevent Tom from using his power to shatter the world. She doubted it. She knew that Tom deeply despised Muggles, primarily because of the way he had been treated at the Muggle orphanage and by his own Muggle father. All those Muggles had been unforgivably unkind and uncaring towards him, excluding him just for being different from them. He had inevitably grown to believe that they were all the same, deeming them weak, disgusting and worthless. Consequently he also despised Muggle-borns. And with that he was sure to have all the Slytherin pure-blood supremacists on his side, obsessively following his lead, oblivious to the fact that Tom's hatred did not stop at pure blood.

Although outwardly Tom obviously agreed with the belief in pure-blood supremacy, Cassiopeia was certain that deep inside he did not fight for beliefs, he only fought for power. He needed a cause to support in order to gain the ultimate power and domination he strived for, and there was nothing better and more suitable than the old Slytherin pure-blood supremacy belief that aimed at the elimination and oppression of Muggles and Muggle-borns, the very beings that Tom detested to the core. The Slytherin gang of Malfoy and Avery and Lestrange and all the others with their obsessive belief in pure-blood supremacy would finally give him the excuse he needed to use his power to dominate the world.

Cassiopeia felt that the task that Dumbledore had set for her was insoluble after all. It seemed impossible to sensitise someone for common moral values who did not even have a conscience. It was obvious that Tom simply did not care. He did not care about morals, he did not care about another's life, he did not care about the world. If anything, he only cared about power. Cassiopeia certainly did not want Tom to destroy the world but she knew that she probably wouldn't be able to stop him from doing so. After all, his hatred was strong.

* * *

After dinner Tom and Cassiopeia were sitting on the sofa in the prefects' common room, reading. Without looking up from his book, Tom suddenly asked, "What did Dumbledore want?"

Cassiopeia thought for a moment before she answered, "Warn me." Her voice was calm and even.

Tom glanced at her curiously. "Warn you? About what?"

Cassiopeia closed the book she had been reading and placed it on the table in front of them before she replied in a low voice, "You."

Tom raised his eyebrows. "And what did you say?" he inquired.

Cassiopeia shrugged. "Nothing. After all, he told me nothing new." Cassiopeia looked at Tom, a sad smile on her face.

Tom stared at her. Sometimes he couldn't believe that she was actually still there, by his side, of her own free will, although she knew so much more about him than anyone else. She had seen and experienced all the cold, black, uncaring darkness that was lurking inside of him, his hatred and his cruelty and yet she did not shy away from him. Suddenly a burning desire washed over him, and with a quick move he pushed her down on the sofa, blocking out his rational mind and acting on pure instinct at last. He smirked as a look of surprise flashed through her eyes before it was replaced by an undisguised longing for his touch. His dark eyes were filled with greed and desire as she pulled him close. His body was hard against hers, yearning to get closer, and her skin was burning under his touch. She ran her fingers through his hair, craving for more until he was finally closer than ever and the room faded around them.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Thanks so much for reading! And by the way, I really love reviews :-)**


	5. Threats and insight

**Chapter Five - Threats and revelations  
**

Cassiopeia had invited Tom to stay at Houlton Manor over the summer, and he had been more than ready to accept her offer. It was their last summer break, and he relished never having to return to the wretched orphanage ever again.

The weeks went by, and they spent their time studying and experimenting with magic. The Houltons' library had lost nothing of its appeal, and being surrounded by all this ancient knowledge, stored in the pages of all those books, Tom still felt like being in paradise.

Finally, the end of the break drew near, and they received their letters from Hogwarts informing them that they had been appointed Head Boy and Girl.

Tom held his Hogwarts robes in his hands and carefully pinned the gleaming badge to the fabric. A sneer crossed his face. "Isn't it funny that they actually made the two of us Head students? The very two students who have violated almost every important school rule? Who probably know the most about the Dark Arts of all the students in the entire school? Sometimes I can't believe how easy it is to manipulate others. After all, how could Dippet truly believe that Hagrid was smart and powerful enough to find the Chamber of Secrets? How could the whole school believe Hagrid to be the heir of Slytherin? Are they actually that stupid?"

Cassiopeia was sitting on the windowsill and scanned the list of school books they would need for the year. Without looking up, she shrugged, "I tend to think that they just aren't able to imagine someone as polite, handsome and smart as you to be so rotten to the core. And, after all, you are an exceptional liar. You can fool everyone."

Tom's lips twitched, and a genuine grin spread across his face. "I couldn't fool you. I always wondered why?"

Cassiopeia looked up from the letter and slightly cocked her head. "I think you seemed too perfect to be real." She paused. "And I cared enough to look closer."

There was a moment of silence. Then Cassiopeia smiled. "And, you know, it turned out to be the best thing I ever did, because under the many layers of your false façade I finally got to know you…the real you." They looked at each other and Cassiopeia added, "Because of you my world is a happier place."

Tom quirked an eyebrow and smirked. "You are crazy."

Cassiopeia shrugged. "Maybe. But not for anything would I have missed one single moment of what we've been through together."

Tom turned to look out of the window. He knew he had to admit that he wouldn't have missed any of it for anything either. He would never have thought anything like this could ever happen. But being around her made him feel strangely alive and somehow inexplicably content. He cast a sideways glance at Cassiopeia. She had turned her attention back to the list of school supplies, carefully noting down which things she would need to get. Tom exhaled sharply. She had somehow complicated things tremendously, and yet he knew he wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

A few weeks into the term Cassiopeia and Tom were sitting at their desks in the Heads' common room doing their homework when there was a knock on the door. Cassiopeia shot Tom a questioning glance, but he got up without looking at her and opened the door. His Slytherin gang entered the room. Cassiopeia watched as Lestrange, Malfoy, Avery, Nott, Black, Rosier and Mulciber took a seat on the sofas around the fireside while Tom sat in the armchair.

Cassiopeia eyed the boys for a moment. She had always wondered about the common ground of the motley crew. Most of them were the heirs of wealthy pure-blood families, snobbish and stuck-up, and surely not the ones to take orders. Yet they all shied away from Tom as if he was their superior. Cassiopeia didn't think it was likely that Tom had openly shared his glorious Slytherin ancestry with them because, although that would surely have left them awestruck, Tom would thereby have proved his connection with the Chamber of Secrets. Cassiopeia doubted that Tom trusted the boys enough to let them have such crucial information. And yet, apparently, they were convinced that he had to have decent wizarding ancestry because, even though she had never heard of any pure-blood family with the name of Riddle, and she was quite sure that the boys hadn't either, for some reason they obviously accepted Tom's leadership unconditionally, not even questioning his blood status.

The boys talked in low voices, but, nevertheless, Cassiopeia could hear Lestrange say, "Do you think it is safe to meet here?"

Cassiopeia glanced at the boys from the corner of her eyes.

Tom fixed Lestrange with a cold glare and hissed, "Are you questioning my decision?"

Lestrange immediately lowered his eyes, shaking his head. "No, my lord, of course not."

Cassiopeia almost choked but was able to fake a cough.

Tom didn't pay her any attention and said, his voice as cold as ice, "Rest assured that I'm perfectly certain this is safe."

Cassiopeia turned her attention back to her homework and continued writing her Charms essay. Tom and his gang talked for two hours before the boys finally left. When Tom closed the door behind Malfoy, Cassiopeia cleared her throat. "My lord?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Tom turned and looked at her. "Yes?" he said.

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware you had a title."

Tom's smirk was tainted by an expression of utter contempt. "Surely you didn't think I was going to keep my filthy Muggle father's name forever. I revised it a little, and it turned out to be an anagram of Lord Voldemort."

Cassiopeia stared at him. After a while she repeated, "Lord Voldemort?"

Tom returned her stare, daring her to comment any further, but she only shook her head slightly and continued writing her essay. Tom frowned. He had spent quite some time trying to rearrange the letters of his odious name, and actually he had been rather pleased with the result. He couldn't wait to get rid of the awfully ordinary name that his mother had afflicted him with. If anything, he had never wanted to be ordinary. His self-chosen name would ensure that nobody would ever mistake him for someone he didn't want to be.

* * *

From then on the Slytherin gang met regularly in the Heads' common room. They were scheming and plotting their way to graduation, discussing their desire for domination, obsessing about their belief in pure-blood supremacy and obviously feeling as though they already owned the world. Generally, Cassiopeia didn't mind because, after all, there was no denying that most of the boys were quite easy on the eye, and their conversations were quite entertaining to listen to. However, inside they were all the arrogant spoilt brats that one would expect the heirs of some of the wealthiest and most influential pure-blood wizarding families to be, a bunch of complacent males living in a man's world.

One evening they had gathered around the fireside again, drinking and talking quietly among themselves. Cassiopeia was sitting in an armchair, reading a book.

Suddenly Lestrange raised his voice and said, "Hey!"

Cassiopeia slowly raised her head and saw him looking at her.

"We need another bottle of Firewhisky," he demanded.

Cassiopeia stared at Lestrange and felt her temper flare. Knowing Lestrange's upbringing she was fairly aware where this was headed, but she decided to play dumb. With her most innocent voice she asked, "Really, do you? So why don't you get yourself a new one?"

"Well, why should I?" Lestrange drawled, a sneer on his face. "You're the woman."

The other boys sniggered.

Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows. She slowly sat up straight and closed her book. "I'm sorry, I think I misheard you," she said sweetly.

Lestrange gazed arrogantly at her. "Just go get the Firewhisky!" His voice was bored and commanding.

The other boys were looking at her expectantly while Tom was staring at the fire, the faintest trace of a smirk on his lips, obviously enjoying the scene.

Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes. Her voice was sharp when she replied, "I think you don't get it. Who do you think you are to order me around?"

Lestrange glowered at her and, slightly intoxicated from the alcohol, suddenly drew his wand, waving it at Cassiopeia. Cassiopeia's eyes widened, and she quickly ducked, dodging the curse. It soared over her head and hit the book shelf behind her, making various books crash noisily to the floor. Cassiopeia glared at Lestrange, and, finally losing her temper, she got up and drew her wand as well. Lestrange scowled at her and cast another curse. Cassiopeia conjured a shield, and the curse crashed into it. She quickly brandished her wand at Lestrange, cursing him in return. The Firewhisky he had had took its toll on his reaction, and he wasn't able to block her curse in time. The armchair he was occupying flew backwards, toppling over and sending Lestrange crashing to the floor, hitting his head and swearing loudly.

Tom watched the scene with a smirk. The other boys seemed to be shocked. Avery made to get up and draw his wand, but Tom instantly shot him a warning glance, curtly motioning him to remain seated. Avery immediately obeyed, leaving his wand in his pocket. The boys stared at Lestrange.

Cassiopeia glared at the boys. "If anyone wants another glass of Firewhisky, just help yourself." Her voice was icy. Then she turned around and ascended the stairs to her room, slamming the door shut. Cassiopeia knew that Tom wouldn't be pleased that she had cursed one of his so-called friends. But, then again, he had only been sitting there, smirking and doing nothing while Lestrange had had the nerve to attack her. He couldn't honestly have expected her to simply accept that.

Tom glanced at Lestrange who was still lying on the floor, rubbing his hurting head and muttering insults. "Stop whining and clean up this mess," Tom ordered curtly.

Lestrange scrambled to his feet and obediently waved his wand at the armchair and the scattered books.

Tom watched him with a sneer on his face. "Next time, you shouldn't underestimate her just because she's a girl," he said sarcastically. Then his gaze turned cold, and his voice was deadly calm and chilling when he said, "And now listen carefully. You will never attack her again." He turned to the other boys, his eyes blazing with menace, and continued, "None of you. If you ever dare so much as touch her, you will regret it."

With a fluid movement he drew his wand and flicked it at Lestrange, hissing, "Crucio."

Lestrange gasped and doubled over in pain, his screams muted by the non-verbal Silencing Charm that Tom had cast. Tom watched him with blank eyes. The other boys quickly averted their eyes, neither daring to look at Lestrange nor at Tom.

After Tom had ended the meeting, he went up to Cassiopeia's room. He knocked on the door but didn't wait for her reply. Tom wanted to set some things straight. Even though he had somehow enjoyed the way Cassiopeia had dealt with Lestrange, that didn't change that he vehemently despised when things were out of his control. He had to make sure that she wouldn't mess with his followers again. The gang's hierarchy ultimately depended on him being in control of things, and no one was allowed to interfere. Tom huffed. Losing control angered him to no end.

Cassiopeia was sitting on her bed, reading a book. When she heard Tom enter the room, she turned to look at him. She had expected him to show up. After all, she knew there was no way he would let her curse one of his cronies and just turn a blind eye. His face was as emotionless as always, but she could sense the anger that he was trying surprisingly hard to suppress.

He slowly walked closer until he stood right next to her. "I must admit that your performance was quite entertaining." His voice was unnaturally calm, and it sent shivers down Cassiopeia's spine. With difficulty she suppressed the instinctive desire to scramble away from him. Tom quirked an eyebrow, and the ghost of a smirk crossed his features. Then he moved even closer. "Nevertheless, I have to say that I won't tolerate you cursing any of them without my permission again."

Cassiopeia felt slightly unnerved by his proximity, but she held his gaze. "Lestrange attacked me first," she breathed.

Tom pursed his lips. "I know I can't say that Lestrange didn't deserve it. But you can trust me that I already taught him to never do anything like that again." After a moment he added, "No one is allowed to touch what is mine."

Cassiopeia swallowed. His unnatural calmness was somehow far more frightening than his rage could ever have been. "I guess you aren't even aware how creepy that sounds," she muttered.

A grin flashed across Tom's face. Then he turned around and left Cassiopeia staring after him.

* * *

Over the weeks the Slytherin boys' meetings in the Heads' common room became fewer. Instead, Tom frequently left the common room in the evenings and only returned after curfew. Cassiopeia wondered where he was going and what he was doing. One evening her curiosity got the better of her, and she decided to find out. When he left the common room, she waited shortly before she followed him out on the corridor. She walked carefully, trying to avoid any noise, staying hidden by the corridors' shadows. Tom quickly strode up to the seventh floor. When he reached the empty wall across from the huge tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, he paced back and forth three times until the door to the Room of Requirement appeared, and he entered the room, closing the door behind him. The moment before he closed the door Cassiopeia caught a glimpse of the members of the Slytherin gang inside and frowned. She wondered why they were meeting in the Room of Requirement rather than in their common room. Staring at the door, she pondered if she should enter the room. She knew she had to decide quickly because the door was going to vanish any moment, and then it would be considerably harder for her to make the door reappear. Hesitantly, Cassiopeia walked closer. She carefully put her hand on the handle and took a deep breath. She was very much aware that Tom would probably be annoyed if she intruded on one of his gang meetings but she couldn't help her curiosity.

Plucking up all her courage, she quietly turned the handle and opened the door. Instantly, she was confronted with eight pairs of eyes staring back at her, seven clearly shocked and one frighteningly devoid of any emotion.

With a quick glance Cassiopeia saw that the boys were standing in a loose circle, their wands in their hands. In the centre of the circle there was a heap of black robes lying on the floor. Rosier was pointing his wand at the pitiful bundle, making it twitch uncontrollably. With widening eyes Cassiopeia realized that it was a fellow student. She slowly entered the room, closing the door behind her, and Rosier lowered his wand, ending the curse he had been casting.

Cassiopeia was still staring at the now motionless body that was sprawled on the floor when Tom asked, "What are you doing here?" His voice was deadly calm.

Cassiopeia swallowed, averting her gaze from the disturbing sight and forcing herself to look into Tom's cold eyes. "I think that's rather my part to ask you," she whispered hoarsely.

Tom slowly left the circle of boys, his wand dangling loosely in his hand. When he was standing right in front of her, he sneered, "I'm showing them how to be useful."

Cassiopeia glanced over his shoulder. "Who's that?" She asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Tom's sneer intensified, and he quirked an eyebrow. "Does it matter?"

Cassiopeia pursed her lips. "You just go and torture random students without any reason? Why?" she asked flatly.

"Well, love, I thought you already knew." His voice was chilly and mocking. Cassiopeia flinched. His words stung, and she knew that he knew it. Then he stepped even closer and hissed, "The answer is, this is me." A shiver ran down Cassiopeia's spine, and a look of satisfaction flashed through Tom's eyes.

After a moment he added condescendingly, "And now it's up to you to prove that you can really cope with me. Come and have a look at how skilled Rosier is."

His lip curled, and he grabbed her arm and pulled her over to the circle of boys. The gang members were standing there, their eyes averted, staring uncomfortably at the floor. Tom raised his voice and said, "Well, my knights, we perform for an audience tonight. I want you to show your best."

He tightened his grip on Cassiopeia's arm and made her face the centre of the circle. Then he nodded at Rosier to continue whatever he had been doing before Cassiopeia had interrupted them. Rosier raised his wand again and resumed muttering spells.

Cassiopeia stared at Rosier's wand, numbly realizing that she recognized every single one of the curses he was casting at the tormented body on the floor. Tom's relentless grip on her arm mercilessly forced her to keep watching, and, even more terrifyingly, she found that her mind was completely blank. She knew she ought to feel the urge to intervene and help whoever it was whom the boys were torturing. But she felt strangely detached and dauntingly empty. If she was honest she had to admit that she had known all along what they were going to do with their knowledge of the Dark Arts.

Suddenly she was very aware of Tom standing only inches behind her, his body warm against hers. She pressed her lips together, noting the irony that he was still able to make her feel warm, even in the face of the most cold-hearted cruelty he had ever displayed to her. She knew it was wrong, all of this, and still she couldn't help it, she couldn't help feeling the warmth of his body and the steady pulse of his magic comforting her.

Tom's voice was a deliberately seductive whisper, and yet cold and emotionless and clearly intended to frighten her, when he teased, "Care to try a curse? I know you know them all in theory, every single one of them. I know you can perform them all."

Cassiopeia slowly shook her head, still not being able to avert her eyes from Rosier's wand.

Tom's features turned into a sneer again. "What did you think we've been studying this for?"

Finally, Cassiopeia collected herself. With a quick movement she ripped her arm free from his grip and turned around to look at him, their faces only inches apart. Her sneer matched his when she hissed, "Well, _love_ , you practise them, I don't. You are clearly atrocious enough for both of us. I keep with the theory."

Tom stared back at her, slightly taken aback. He had expected her to react differently, really. When she had entered the room, he had felt strangely torn. He had wanted her to know what he was doing, and yet he had been concerned about the way she might react. He had instantly known there was only one direction to go, and that was forward, because now that she had seen them torturing another student he could never let her leave. He had been convinced that this time she would finally have to admit that she wasn't ready to bear the harsh, malicious, uncaring reality of his darkness. He had expected their shared world to shatter any moment, but he had been determined to not whitewash the truth. If it had to go down this way, he was going to make it cruel and painful. If she turned away, he was going to strike back with all his power, preventing her from taking him down with her. After all, it didn't matter, and he didn't care.

But when she had been standing there in front of him, so close, being forced to watch Rosier and his victim, he had felt the warmth of her body against his and suddenly, despite himself, he had found himself dreading her reaction. And then she had turned around, and in her eyes there had been nothing of the reproach and fear he had been expecting.

And at once realization hit him. In her own way she was just as ruthless as he was. They weren't that different, after all. Only contrary to him it wasn't the complete lack of emotion that made her that way but the insane amount of emotion she managed to maintain for him.

The sneer on his face slowly turned into a genuine smile. He turned to the boys again. "I think that's enough Rosier. Let Avery have a try."

Rosier instantly nodded. "Of course, my lord."

Avery moved a little forward and brandished his wand.

Tom looked back at Cassiopeia, who was still standing in front of him, and an insatiable greed flooded him. She was his. He would never let her go.

* * *

They walked back to their common room in silence. After the boys had finished, Tom had cast a Memory Charm on his gang's unconscious victim and had ordered Mulciber and Nott to take the Hufflepuff back to his common room. While they were walking, Cassiopeia threw a sideways glance at Tom, but his expression was blank again.

When they entered their common room, Tom went straight to the book shelf and fetched a book. Then he sat by the fireside and started reading, as if nothing had happened.

Cassiopeia watched him for a while before she slowly walked over to his armchair and said tonelessly, "What you are doing is not right."

Tom looked up from his book. "Isn't it? Well, I don't care."

"You can't just use others as guinea pigs for your cruelties."

"Why?" Tom eyed her curiously and suppressed a smirk. He had to admit that somehow he liked the way she didn't want to stop fighting for him to someday discover his conscience, the way she didn't want to give up hope of him becoming more human one day. She had seen him at his absolutely worst, and yet she was still there, still caring for him, still not giving up on him. But of course she was fighting a losing battle, and he sensed that she knew it.

She wordlessly shook her head, a shade of sadness in her eyes. "It's inhuman."

"I erased his memory, just as I've erased the memories of all of them. I'd say I showed mercy," Tom said, his face a mask of innocence.

Cassiopeia frowned. "That wasn't mercy, Tom, that was only self-preservation, and you know it."

Of course he knew. Never would he have cast the Memory Charms for the sake of others. Of course it had been purely and simply for his own sake. He frowned at her deliberate use of the name he disliked so much and pursed his lips. "I've told you, I am Lord Voldemort," he spat.

"And I've told you, I'll never call you that," she retorted.

"But what if I want you to?" Tom demanded.

Cassiopeia shrugged. "There are lots of things I would want you to. That doesn't mean you do them, does it?" There was a moment of silence before she continued, "And I already told you that you don't need a title or a new name to make me fear your disastrous power."

"If you fear my power then why don't you obey me?" Tom asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cassiopeia looked at him for a while before she answered, "There are a few things that even fear won't make me do. Giving up my free will is one of these. I want to be loyal to you because I choose to, not because you force me to. For some strange and unfathomable reason I still care for you more than for anybody else, no matter how stupid, inexplicable and insane that probably is. But I am not your subject. No one, not even you, has the right to rule over me. And if you cannot respect that then I can't prevent you from doing whatever you will, but just don't expect me to endure your cruelties as willingly as your minions do."

He stared back at her. She was looking at him with these calm eyes that always seemed to see right through him, and he knew she meant what she was saying. Furthermore, he knew she had a point there. No amount of fear could ever ensure the same loyalty that her affection could provide. He knew he could rely on her, completely and unconditionally. He wasn't going to risk this for a name.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Thanks so very, very much for your reviews! You're great :-)**


	6. Charms and concern

**Chapter Six - Charms and concern  
**

Tom was sitting at the dining table in Slughorn's quarters along with some of his knights, who were part of the Slug Club, and was impatiently waiting for Slughorn to finally finish rambling on about one or the other supposedly extraordinary former student. He had arranged his features into a mask of polite interest, occasionally smiling at one of Slughorn's jokes and desperately hoping time would finally speed up. He thought about the book he had had to abandon earlier in order to go to the Slug Club meeting. Keeping up appearances really meant making sacrifices.

Tom snapped out of his thoughts when he realized Slughorn was looking at him. He forced himself to pay attention again. Slughorn was just saying, "So I thought it would be nice to have a little dance. Of course you can all bring a partner of your choice." He eyed Tom with a knowing smile. "Maybe you ask Miss Houlton, Tom. Wouldn't it be nice to spend some extra time with her?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Tom had to suppress the urge to curse him on the spot. Whom did the old matchmaker believe him to be? And besides, wasn't Slughorn aware that there was hardly anyone he was spending more time with? After all, they were sharing a common room. Tom noticed that Malfoy, Avery and Lestrange were grinning impishly, and he slightly turned towards them and shot them a threatening glare before he said with his most polite voice and a very fake smile, "Well, sir, if you think she would like to accompany me…"

Slughorn instantly nodded excitedly, "But, Tom, of course! Believe me, you are exactly what young women dream of."

Tom carefully arranged his features into a modest expression and successfully suppressed a smirk. "If you say so, sir…" He was quite certain that he was nowhere near that.

Slughorn beamed. Then he glanced at his pocket watch. "Oh boys, it's already ten thirty. You've got to get back to your dorms."

One by one the boys filed out, and, finally, Tom was the last to leave. When he closed the door behind him, his gaze fell on Malfoy who was still standing in the corridor, obviously waiting for him. Tom raised an eyebrow. "What are you waiting for, Malfoy?"

Malfoy fell into step beside him, and after a moment he said, "Well, about that dance, are you really going to ask Houlton?"

"I don't see why that's any of your business," Tom stated coldly. "Anything else?"

Malfoy shot him a nervous glance. "Uhm, the boys were wondering….if…uhm, what…" Malfoy cleared his throat.

"Quite illuminating, Malfoy," Tom sneered. "And precisely what were they wondering?"

Malfoy cleared his throat again. "Uhm, are you courting her? The boys….they were wondering…wondering if that might be of any influence on our…our plans…" Malfoy's voice trailed away.

Tom couldn't quite believe his ears, but he managed to keep his mask of detached indifference in place. He threw a condescending glance at Malfoy. "Firstly, again I don't see why that's any of your business. And secondly, I'm definitely not, and even if I were, it surely would be of no influence on any of our plans." After a moment he added, "And you can tell them they should rather spend their time trying to improve their wandwork instead of wasting it gossiping."

Malfoy nodded hastily. "Of course, my lord, and just so you know, I told them they are foolish to think there'd be anything going on between Houlton and you, after all, she's not even a Slytherin…" Tom raised his eyebrows, and Malfoy's voice trailed away again. Suddenly, Tom had the impression that Malfoy was quite glad that they had arrived at the corner where he had to turn into a different corridor. Malfoy quickly walked off towards the Slytherin common room and left Tom wondering why the blond boy's last statement had actually annoyed him.

When Tom entered their common room, Cassiopeia was sitting on the windowsill again, an ancient tome on her lap. Tom shortly wondered why she always chose that place over the comfortable armchairs. Then she looked up from the book she had been reading, and a smile crossed her face.

"Finally back from being doted on?" she asked teasingly.

Tom smirked. "You're just jealous," he retorted.

"Well, while you spent your time sucking up to Slughorn, I read some interesting things. We really need to try this, you wanna guess what?"

Tom raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure you're going to tell me anyway."

"Unsupported flight. Without brooms or anything. Nobody has mastered it so far but in this book there are some interesting ideas on how to manage it…" Cassiopeia wasn't quite able to keep her excitement out of her voice.

Tom slowly walked over to the window, throwing an inquiring look at the book she was reading. She held it out to him, and he took it. Leaning against the windowsill, he skimmed through the text. Without looking up from the book, he stated casually, "Slughorn announced he's going to host a dance on Valentine's Day." When Cassiopeia didn't reply, he continued with a deliberately bored voice, "He thought I should ask you to go there with me."

Cassiopeia looked at him from the corner of her eye. "Did he? And what did you think?"

Tom pursed his lips. After a moment he answered, "At first, I thought that I'd really have preferred if he'd never come up with this silly idea of hosting a dance. Then I thought that I'd never ask anyone other than you."

Cassiopeia shook her head. "Sometimes I wish you were a little less honest and instead graced me with a little more of your perfect acting," she said sarcastically. But in her eyes there was a gleam of contentment that told him otherwise.

* * *

When Tom and Cassiopeia arrived at Slughorn's party, his quarters were already full of people. Tom narrowed his eyes. He really disliked crowded rooms. While he was still glowering at the masses of people, Slughorn suddenly stood in front of them, beaming. Tom quickly arranged his features into his most charming mask.

Slughorn exclaimed, "Tom! And Miss Houlton! I'm so glad you made it to my little party!"

Tom nodded his head in greeting.

Cassiopeia smiled politely. "It's wonderful to be here, sir. I'm so happy Tom asked me to accompany him."

Tom cast a sideways glance at her, and a smirk crossed his features. Obviously she was really getting better at acting.

Slughorn winked suggestively at Cassiopeia. "I knew you two were meant for each other the moment I saw you."

Tom stared at Slughorn and had to fight hard to keep his composure.

He was still glaring at Slughorn when suddenly Cassiopeia took his hand, and, before he could react in any way, she leaned over to Slughorn and whispered, "You were so right, sir."

A huge smile spread on Slughorn's face. "I wish you two a wonderful evening! Go and enjoy yourselves! Oh my, there's Rudolph McCarthy, that's been a long time!" Slughorn beamed at Tom and Cassiopeia again, before he turned towards a young man, probably a former student, who had just arrived.

"I wasn't aware you were such a natural at acting," Tom stated.

Cassiopeia looked at him, and he saw something unfamiliar flash through her eyes. He wasn't sure, but he thought there was a hint of sadness in her voice when she answered, "Maybe I wasn't acting."

Tom frowned slightly. All of a sudden he realized she was still holding his hand. With difficulty he suppressed the instant reflex to pull his hand away. Her warmth was strangely reassuring. He sceptically gazed at their hands. When she noticed his look, he sensed that she tensed, instantly letting go of his hand. Without thinking, he closed his hand, stopping her from pulling hers away. Cassiopeia's gaze darted to his eyes, surprise written all over her face. He shook his head only the slightest bit, and after a moment she slowly closed her hand around his again.

Tom led the way across the room to an empty corner, his mind racing. What on earth was he doing? He surely wasn't one to hold hands with anybody, and yet he didn't find it in himself to let go. He felt his temper flare and clenched his jaw. Why couldn't things be easy only once?

Cassiopeia followed behind and wondered what had gotten into him. He was still holding her hand, quite tightly at that, obviously not intending to let go even though she could sense that he wasn't comfortable with the situation at all.

When they reached the other side of the room, he leaned against the wall and turned to look at her. He pursed his lips. "I…" He stopped and cleared his throat. "You know, this…" He stopped again.

Cassiopeia looked into his eyes, a smile on her face, and whispered, "I know, this is not you. Maybe it's the vapour of some potion that Slughorn brewed earlier, or maybe he put some Charms on his quarters." Her smile slowly turned into a smirk. "Don't get me wrong, I really like it, but I don't expect you to act like others do. I know you're nothing like the others."

Tom finally found his words again. "Well, usually I am." His mouth twisted into a smirk. "But right now I just don't want to be. Maybe it's really some kind of magic that Slughorn put on this place." He paused. "Actually, I don't care." He suddenly pulled her close.

Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows and pushed herself slightly away from him. Tom threw her a questioning glance. She returned his gaze, whispering, "What on earth are you doing? I guess you're aware that Malfoy and Lestrange are staring at you. And just as always, subtlety is not their strong point."

Tom shot a glance at Lestrange and Malfoy. Lestrange didn't avert his gaze, but Malfoy hurried to look away as soon as he caught his eye. Tom grinned. "They should mind their own business, although I guess I somehow set them on the wrong track when I told them I wasn't courting you."

"Did you? Well, probably now they are confused," Cassiopeia said sarcastically.

"Probably. But any explanation would be wasted on them anyway because they simply won't understand…us." Tom shrugged.

"Now, if you don't care, then I don't care either." Cassiopeia smiled and pulled Tom close again.

Malfoy, Lestrange and Avery were standing a little away from Tom and Cassiopeia, a glass of Firewhisky in their hands. Their dates had excused themselves to go powder their noses. With their attention removed from the girls they were trying to charm, they had found themselves confronted with the weirdest sight they had ever seen. Neither Malfoy nor Lestrange had been able to stop gaping at Tom holding hands with Cassiopeia. However, as soon as Tom had thrown them one of his unrivalled glares, Malfoy had snapped out of it, instantly looking away, whereas Lestrange still didn't move.

"Stop staring at him," Malfoy hissed, nudging Lestrange with his elbow.

"You said he told you he wasn't…" Lestrange's voice was accusing.

Malfoy cut him short, his eyes narrowing. "Stop it, Lestrange! It's none of our business. He told me it wasn't of any influence on our plans, and after all, there's nothing wrong with her, maybe aside from the fact that she's no Slytherin. Now stop staring, for Merlin's sake! I certainly don't want to end up on the wrong end of his wand, just because of your stubbornness."

Lestrange gritted his teeth. "She cursed me."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Still not over that? Get a grip on yourself! You attacked her first."

Lestrange stubbornly shook his head and hissed, "She cursed me, and he punished _me_ even though it was _her_ fault."

Malfoy sneered, "Well, I'd say it was _your_ fault because it was _you_ who attacked first, but besides, who says that he didn't punish her as well?"

Lestrange glowered at Cassiopeia and Tom and spat, "Does that look like he did?"

Malfoy snickered. "That doesn't mean anything. I mean, that's him. He smiles at you and crucioes you next."

Avery, who had kept out of their conversation so far, leant over to Malfoy and Lestrange and hissed, "Now stop it, both of you! Your staring at him will get us all into severe trouble." Avery paused for a moment before he said gravely, "I'd rather you enjoyed the evening with your dates instead of making him target us."

Malfoy nodded in agreement, and, finally, Lestrange reluctantly turned back towards his two friends as well.

* * *

Two days later Cassiopeia was walking to the Heads' common room after dinner. When she entered the corridor that led to the common room, she saw Lestrange loitering in the shadows of an alcove. She approached the alcove slowly and eyed him warily.

"Lestrange. What are you doing here?"

"Evening, Houlton." He narrowed his eyes at her.

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. "Are you waiting for Riddle?"

"No. I was waiting for you," Lestrange spat. "You know, I don't like the way you're always around him. I don't like how you influence him."

"And you came to tell me? How very considerate of you," Cassiopeia stated sarcastically.

Lestrange glared at her. "He made _me_ pay although it was _your_ fault."

" _My_ fault?" Cassiopeia asked, looking perplexed.

Tom was on his way back to the common room when he suddenly heard the voices of Lestrange and Cassiopeia. He stopped in his tracks and tried to listen in to their conversation, carefully creeping closer.

" _Your_ fault," Lestrange was saying. "You didn't obey me."

A sneer spread across Cassiopeia's face. "And why would I obey you? You're not in the position to order me around. I don't care how you're going to treat the poor girl who's going to be your wife one day, but I think we agree that this certainly won't be me, so I don't need to obey you. And it's definitely not my fault that you decided to throw curses at me although you were too drunk to avoid being hit by mine." She saw his wand twitch in his hand. "Thinking about trying to curse me again? Did you learn nothing last time?"

Tom tensed and closed his hand around his wand. Was this fool actually going to ignore his orders? He peeked around the corner. Lestrange was holding his wand in his hand, obviously still unsure about what to do next.

Cassiopeia glared at Lestrange. "Go back to the dungeons, Lestrange. Don't make things worse. I'm sure your friends told you the same, because, after all, I don't see any of them here with you. Now, you're smarter than that. You don't want him to make you pay again, do you? And you know as well as I do that he will, if he finds you fighting with me again."

Lestrange bit his lip, his frustration clearly visible on his face. Then he snorted and turned around, storming away towards the dungeons.

Cassiopeia stared after him, and the echo of his footsteps slowly died away.

"He didn't deserve your concern." Tom's voice broke the silence, and Cassiopeia gave a jerk.

Without looking at him, she asked, "How long have you been watching?"

"Long enough to know I'm going to curse the last bit of brain out of him." Tom's voice was frighteningly cold.

Cassiopeia threw a glance at him. His eyes were burning with suppressed fury. Cassiopeia exhaled slowly. "Let him be."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "He disobeyed me."

Cassiopeia shook her head. "Actually, he did not. He neither touched me, nor did he curse me."

"But only because you talked him out of it," Tom huffed.

Cassiopeia turned to look at him, her voice soothing, "I only reminded him of what would happen if you found out. Your threat obviously did its job." After a moment she added, "Don't always repay evil with evil, Tom. Greatness is more than just being the one with the most powerful curses." She carefully touched his hand which was clenched tightly around his wand. "Just let him be." To her utter surprise and profound relief she felt his fist slowly relaxing.

Tom pursed his lips and looked into her eyes. "He doesn't deserve your concern."

Cassiopeia held his gaze. "Maybe he doesn't, but you do."

Tom stared at her. He couldn't quite believe that his anger was actually subsiding. Finally, he exhaled sharply. "Fine, this time I won't go after him. After all, he didn't do anything, and he doesn't know that I saw him. But next time you won't be able to make me change my mind."

Cassiopeia's lips twitched. "We'll see."

* * *

The older Tom had been watching them from the shadows of the corridor, a deep frown on his face. For the first time he wondered what he had gotten himself into by returning to the past. He was quite certain that he had successfully drawn his younger counterpart's attention to the dangers of creating too many Horcruxes although he knew that it had yet to be confirmed that his younger counterpart had actually understood what he had tried to convey to him. He was determined to stay in the past as long as necessary to make sure things were going to turn out the way he wanted them to be.

However, what he had just witnessed in this corridor had left him a little surprised, to say the least. He still couldn't quite believe it. Had his younger self actually just refrained from taking the golden opportunity to make someone hurt? Had he actually refrained from cursing the hell out of Lestrange even though it would have been so easy? Tom's frown intensified. He wasn't quite sure if he had wanted to change things…that much.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Thanks so much for reading! And...I really love reviews :-))**


	7. Exams

**Chapter Seven - Exams  
**

When spring came, rumours about Grindelwald planning on invading Britain were growing stronger, and every day the Daily Prophet was full of articles discussing whether or not Dumbledore should finally try and stop him.

In the end it seemed Dumbledore was left no choice, and, at last, he duelled Grindelwald in what was soon considered the most famous duel in history. Dumbledore emerged the shining hero of the wizarding world. The whole school was celebrating Dumbledore's victory and the end of the Wizarding War.

However, Tom's hatred for Dumbledore only seemed to increase with the older wizard's newly gained additional popularity. Cassiopeia had the impression that, despite the mild spring temperatures outside, the temperature in their common room remained somewhere around freezing, with Tom's open hatred and his undisguised fury.

Cassiopeia didn't know how many times she had already wondered why Dumbledore was actually able to get to Tom the way he did. After all, Tom did not care for others, he didn't care about anyone else's opinion of him, and he had absolutely no feelings at all. Yet there obviously was something about Dumbledore that unnerved Tom. Thinking about it again and again, Cassiopeia had finally come to the conclusion that Tom's hatred was ultimately aroused by his utter frustration at not being able to manipulate him like the others. Dumbledore was the only one Tom couldn't charm, the only one he couldn't deceive. Dumbledore was a constant threat to Tom's façade. Cassiopeia was convinced that Tom hated the fact that Dumbledore was able to see through him, that he couldn't persuade him to believe his lies and, most of all, that it had been his own fault that Dumbledore knew him so well.

The teachers organized a celebration feast in honour of Dumbledore, and everyone was looking forward to it, with the exception of Tom. Once again Cassiopeia couldn't help being fascinated by Tom's immense acting skills. As long as their common room's door had been closed and they had been alone, Tom had not bothered to mask his fury and the intense hatred he felt for the older wizard. However, the moment Tom had opened the door of their common room, his perfect façade had instantly been back in place, shielding his true self from the world and not giving away any of his real thoughts.

They walked to the Great Hall in silence. When they entered the already crowded hall, Cassiopeia took a seat at the Ravenclaw table, and Tom walked over to his Slytherin gang. Dippet started the feast with a boring speech on Dumbledore's success. When he had finally finished, he motioned Tom and Cassiopeia to come to the front. There had been no need to discuss that it would be Tom who was going to give the Heads' speech. When they met at the front of the hall, their eyes briefly locked, and Cassiopeia saw a wicked glint flicker through Tom's eyes. Then he addressed the students and teachers, his face now a perfectly innocent mask of polite admiration. He effortlessly delivered a rousing speech, condemning the Dark Arts as a ghastly inhuman abomination of magic, thanking Dumbledore for his commitment to defend the wizarding world against Grindelwald's evil forces and praising the ultimate victory of the light. Cassiopeia knew Tom didn't mean one single word he was saying, and yet he sounded as if it was all he had ever wanted.

* * *

With every day the end of the school year drew nearer, and finally it was time for their N.E.W.T. exams.

The evening before the Transfiguration exam, Tom sat in the common room, his wand in his hand, lazily transfiguring the teapot on the table in front of him into a ferret and back into a teapot again and again. He wondered what task Dumbledore was going to assign to them. He was quite certain that Dumbledore would love to give him a task that he wouldn't be able to perform perfectly. A sneer crossed Tom's face. Luckily, Dumbledore would never be able to do so, because if it was difficult for him, then it would be near to insoluble for the rest of the class, and Dumbledore couldn't very well let his whole class fail the exam.

Cassiopeia eyed Tom from a distance. For once his thoughts were showing on his face. She watched him scowling at the teapot, transfiguring it morosely time after time.

When she couldn't bear it any longer, she slowly walked over to his armchair and determinedly closed her hand around his, lowering his wand. His gaze darted to her face, and she could see a hint of surprise shining in his eyes. She held his gaze, her hand still touching his, and for a moment she relished the comforting warmth of his skin and the strangely reassuring gleam in his eyes.

Finally, she felt him putting his wand away before he suddenly pulled her close. She hesitantly ran her hand through his hair, searching his eyes for any hint of his thoughts.

Tom felt his mind go blank, instinct taking over again at last. A wry smirk crossed his face when he realized he didn't even want to fight it anymore. It felt right, just like it always did, and for some strange reason he didn't mind anymore.

* * *

The next morning the students gathered in the Transfiguration classroom for the written test.

Afterwards they had to wait outside the classroom for their turn to take the practical exam.

Leaning against the wall of the corridor, Tom let his gaze wander over the other students. Most of them were chatting nervously about the recent test, trying to find out which answers had been correct. Finally, his gaze fell on Cassiopeia. She was standing a little further down the corridor, absentmindedly playing with her wand, a look of intense concentration on her face. He only realized he had obviously been staring at her for quite some time, when he sensed Malfoy's gaze on himself. He turned to look at Malfoy and saw the blond boy grinning back at him. Tom's dark eyes locked with Malfoy's pale ones, and Malfoy slightly raised an eyebrow, his grin still in place.

Tom pursed his lips. "Shouldn't you rather be worrying about Transfiguration?" he asked dryly.

Malfoy's grin didn't falter. "Well, there's nothing to worry. I'm quite sure I won't please the old coot anyways, no matter how good my performance is going to be."

Tom's lips twitched. He knew that Malfoy probably ranked second on the list of Dumbledore's least favourite students, directly behind Tom himself. But contrary to Tom, Malfoy had never been overly talented at Transfiguration, which had surely made things easier for Dumbledore. Actually, Tom wondered how Malfoy had even managed to get the necessary grades to be able to continue Transfiguration to N.E.W.T. level, and why he had bothered to continue anyway. Surely, his father was going to get him some high-ranking job in the Ministry after graduation, no matter what.

But probably Malfoy needed all N.E.W.T. degrees he could get to make the cronyism less obvious. Tom felt the familiar envy and hate rise in his chest, his gaze lingering on his Slytherin gang. They didn't need to achieve anything by themselves, none of them; they only needed their pure blood and their connections. Tom gritted his teeth. He knew most of them would end up in the Ministry after graduation, in all those high-ranking posts that their connections would get them. He felt anger and irritation burning in his veins and exhaled sharply. At least, he would make sure to mercilessly exploit their positions to his advantage.

Finally, it was Tom's turn to take the practical exam. When he stood in front of Dumbledore, they eyed each other for a moment. Tom had the impression that the older wizard was searching his eyes, looking for any sign of weakness, or maybe for any hint of his true self. Tom instantly closed his mind. He thought he saw something like disappointment flash through Dumbledore's eyes. Tom suppressed his anger and grabbed his wand tighter, waiting for Dumbledore to finally tell him what he was supposed to do. When Dumbledore indicated the items on the desk in front of him and explained the task, Tom turned towards the desk. Brandishing his wand fluidly, he transfigured one item after the other flawlessly, his expression aloof and icy.

When he had finished, Dumbledore nodded, but there was no smile on his face and not the slightest sign of approval.

Tom wordlessly turned around and stoically walked over to the other students who had already taken the exam, his face as emotionless as always. When he joined his fellow Slytherins, he suddenly caught Cassiopeia's eye. She was looking at him, with those calm, soothing eyes, and he could feel his anger and envy slowly leave him. His lips twitched slightly. He knew he would never get used to this strange kind of magic that she was able to perform.

Cassiopeia held Tom's gaze. When she saw the stony coldness in his eyes slowly vanish, she felt inexplicably warm and content.

* * *

The days of the N.E.W.T. exams went by, and finally it was the last day of their exams.

In the morning they had done the written Defence Against the Dark Arts test, and now they were standing out on the grounds for the practical exam.

Cassiopeia was nervously playing with her wand, her fellow Ravenclaws around her all similarly tense and excited. Cassiopeia glanced at the Slytherins. Most of them had their usual arrogant and haughty air about them. Tom was standing among them, his features carefully arranged into an expression of polite indifference.

Professor Merrythought went to the front and cleared her throat. "I hope everybody's had some lunch. Now it's time for the practical exercises. I have decided that we'll do this in duels. First, I'm going to announce the pairings, so listen carefully." She summoned a parchment and made it hover in mid-air in front of her. "Let's see….there's Abbott and Black, then Carrow and Yaxley, McLean and Nott,.."

Cassiopeia suppressed a sigh and tightened her grip on her wand. The pairings were clearly picked according to their grades. Thus, she could already guess whom she would have to duel. She threw a glance at Tom. He was smirking back at her. Of course he had already put two and two together as well.

Merrythought continued to read pairings. "…Malfoy and Mulciber, Andrews and Lestrange, Houlton and Riddle. Well, then, find your partner, and go to one of the duelling strips."

Cassiopeia felt her nervousness slowly getting the better of her. Her hands were sweaty, and she grabbed her wand tightly. She hated exams.

"Calm down."

Cassiopeia looked up. Tom was standing in front of her, for once smiling one of his rare genuine smiles.

"We'll do this." His voice was uncharacteristically soothing.

Cassiopeia swallowed and nodded, wiping her hands on her robes. Then she followed Tom to one of the empty duelling strips.

When all the students were in position, Merrythought cleared her throat again. "Well, then, one more thing before we start. If your duel is over before the time is up, please just start duelling once again. Now, bow to each other."

Cassiopeia and Tom bowed to each other.

"Just play fair," Cassiopeia whispered.

Tom quirked an eyebrow. "Of course I do, you know me." He grinned.

"Well, yeah, that's why I remind you," Cassiopeia muttered.

Merrythought called, "Wands at the ready!"

The professor watched as the students turned and went to the opposite ends of the duelling strips. Finally, Merrythought called, "And now, on the count of three cast your charms. One…two…three!"

The duel reminded Cassiopeia very much of their first duel during Defence Against the Dark Arts class at the beginning of their fifth year. And yet it was somehow different. To be fair, they were both battling hard, but she sensed that Tom was still holding back, giving her more chances than he would have had to if he had fought deadly serious. Merrythought was watching, and Cassiopeia knew that Tom deliberately displayed just the right amount of his power to appear slightly better than her without belittling her abilities. Merrythought nodded approvingly at both of them and went to the next pair. Cassiopeia caught a glimpse of the mischief that was gleaming in Tom's eyes, and she was aware that she would stand no chance if he actually fought to defeat her.

Tom smirked, guessing her thoughts. And yet he had to admit that Cassiopeia was truly good at duelling. He knew he was better, but it was still a challenge, and he enjoyed it. They were still fighting their first duel, and he had not held back too much, provided that he could only use Hogwarts' approved magic and no Dark Arts. Without using Dark Curses there really had not been too many opportunities he had let pass to win the duel early.

By now Merrythought had returned to the front and called, "You can now come to an end."

Tom smirked. It was time to stop holding back. It took him three more curses and shields, but then he managed to successfully disarm Cassiopeia, catching her wand with his free hand.

Merrythought called, "Now return to your partner and bow again."

The students walked back to the centre of their duelling strips and bowed.

Tom held out Cassiopeia's wand for her. "Played fair enough?" he asked in a low voice.

Cassiopeia smiled. "Surprisingly so."

Tom smirked back at her. "I'll see you in the common room." He turned around, and Cassiopeia watched as he walked over to his Slytherin gang who were already waiting for him.

* * *

Finally, it was their last evening at Hogwarts. Cassiopeia and Tom were standing at the window of the Heads' common room, looking out on the grounds. The graduation ceremony was over, and their trunks were ready for departure. Cassiopeia cast a sideways glance at Tom. There was a gleam in his eyes that told her that he couldn't wait to shake off the constricting skin of his fake façade. She could tell that he yearned to finally be himself, with all the darkness and power that raged inside of him. Cassiopeia closed her eyes. She could feel his magic comforting hers, sharing the slightest fraction of his power with her and making her feel truly alive.

"I can't believe that we're finally done," Cassiopeia whispered. "Somehow I simply don't want to leave."

Tom continued to look out of the window. He certainly would have preferred to be able to stay at Hogwarts as well. But as Headmaster Dippet had deemed him too young to become the new Defence against the Dark Arts professor, he had made up his mind to travel to Albania and retrieve Ravenclaw's long lost diadem. Originally, he had planned to find it and turn it into another Horcrux, but after his strange and somehow slightly unsettling encounter in the Chamber of Secrets he had decided to refrain from making further Horcruxes for the time being. However, Ravenclaw's diadem was a powerful magical artefact and a priceless heirloom, and he craved to possess it.

"I want to go to Albania and find Ravenclaw's diadem." Tom's voice broke the silence, and Cassiopeia turned to look at him. After a moment Tom continued, "Come with me."

Cassiopeia smiled. "I'd never have thought you would ask."

Tom smirked. Honestly, he hadn't thought so either. But the troubling thought that her absence might deprive him of this rousing force of power that had been fuelling his magic for so many months now had been unbearable. And if he was honest he had to admit that he had somehow grown used to her presence in a way that he simply didn't want this to be the end.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing! I always love to read your thoughts on the story :-)**


	8. Adventures and consolation

**Author's note:**

 **Thanks so much for all your wonderful reviews! I enjoyed every single one of them!**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight - Adventures and consolation  
**

Cassiopeia had successfully talked her father into allowing her to travel to Albania with Tom. Tom had thought her foolish for telling the truth, or at least part of it, but Cassiopeia didn't want to lie to her father. She had been convinced that he would never deny her the possibility to broaden her knowledge and experience, and, just as expected, her excitement about the things she would be able to learn in Albania had won her father over. At first he had been a little wary of her being so far away, with only Tom to accompany her. But since Tom had stayed at Houlton Manor for almost every break of the past two years, her father had been able to get to know Tom, or rather the impeccable image that Tom had created over the years, and even though her father remained oblivious to Tom's true character, it hadn't escaped his notice that Tom was indeed unusually powerful for his age. Thus it had been no surprise to him that Tom had graduated top of his year in every single subject. In the end, all of this had convinced her father that Tom was perfectly capable of taking care of them, and he had agreed to let her go.

When Tom and Cassiopeia finally arrived in Albania, they felt truly free. The whole world of magic lay before them, there were no more limitations, no more restrictions, no more boundaries. Everything was possible.

They had decided to stay at a small inn for a few nights before finally setting off for the forest where the diadem was supposed to be hidden. When they entered the inn, Tom closed his hand around his wand in his pocket and threw a quick glance around the room, taking in their surroundings with his observant eyes. The dimly lit room was empty aside from the innkeeper who was sitting hunched behind a shabby counter in the back of the room. Tom was just about to draw his wand when Cassiopeia approached the innkeeper. Tom furrowed his brow. The greasy haired, scruffy-looking old man looked up from the paper he had been reading and eyed them suspiciously.

Gesturing vaguely at Tom and herself, Cassiopeia stated, "We wondered if you have two rooms available for a couple of nights."

The man shot her a calculating glance and nodded. "Names?"

Cassiopeia looked back at him and said firmly, "We preferred none."

The man narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze sweeping from Cassiopeia to Tom and back to Cassiopeia. Then he nodded again and mumbled, "Fine. But without names the rate's higher."

Cassiopeia produced a few coins from her pocket and laid them on the counter. "I guess that'll do."

The man eyed the money greedily and instantly nodded once again. "Of course, miss. The rooms are yours. If I can be of any service, just let me know." He flashed his yellowish teeth at her.

Tom narrowed his eyes, his fist tightening around his wand in his pocket. The innkeeper fumbled in a drawer and finally shoved two keys across the counter. Pointing in the direction of the stairs to his right, he muttered, "First floor to the left." Then he turned back to the paper he had been reading before.

Cassiopeia took the keys and went to the staircase. Halfway up the stairs she looked over her shoulder. "Are you coming?"

Tom shot a last glance at the innkeeper who didn't pay them any attention anymore, before he quickly followed her up the stairs.

On the first floor to the left there were two doors opposite each other. Cassiopeia opened the door to the room on the left. Looking inside, she slightly wrinkled her nose. Then she opened the other door. The room looked just the same as the first. Cassiopeia muttered, "Well, I guess it'll do," and stepped inside, throwing her bag on the bed.

Tom followed her into the room, his wand now in his hand.

She turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow. "Yours is the other."

Tom smirked. "Yeah, I got that." He flicked his wand, and the door of the other room slammed shut. Flicking his wand again, he closed and locked the door of Cassiopeia's room as well, before he cast a silencing charm on the room.

The room was small and dim. The shutters in front of the dirty window looked as though they hadn't been opened in a long time. The room was furnished with a bed, a table and a chair.

Throwing a suspicious glance at the chair, Tom decided to sit on the bed. He watched Cassiopeia inspecting the bathroom for a while, before he suddenly said, "You didn't have to pay."

Cassiopeia left the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She threw him an inquiring glance. "Why not?"

"I would've made him let us stay without payment," Tom stated casually, leaning back against the bed's headboard.

Cassiopeia cocked her head slightly. "I'm sure you would. But it wasn't a lot of money, and yet I think it's going to get us further than your Imperius Curse."

Tom smirked wryly. "Well, there's not only the Imperius Curse. I can think of at least one other curse that would certainly help."

Cassiopeia eyed him disapprovingly, shaking her head. "What is it with your obsession with using the Unforgivables?" she asked at last.

Tom shrugged. "They are powerful."

Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes at him. "They are bad."

Tom grinned, unmoved. "If you say so. Maybe that's why the curses and I complement each other so well."

Cassiopeia kept staring at him. Then she shook her head again and said dryly, "You're impossible."

Tom's grin grew even wider. "But that's why you like me, isn't it?" His voice was teasing and Cassiopeia couldn't suppress a smirk. After all, somehow he was right.

* * *

During the following days they prepared for their stay in the forest, getting all the necessary supplies and storing them in magically extended bags that would be easy to carry. Cassiopeia had brought a magical tent, and the innkeeper willingly provided them with a lot of additional information on the forest. Even though Tom insisted that his curses would have gotten them the necessary information as well, he had to admit that maybe the money had actually rendered the innkeeper more helpful than the curses would have.

When they finally set off for the forest, they were truly excited. The days went by, and they quickly grew accustomed to being in the woods. During the days they would occasionally see other wizards stroll through the forest, but so far they hadn't been confronted by anybody. It was the fifth day, and they had been walking through the dark forest in silence for hours.

Cassiopeia was following Tom closely, her hand clutching her wand tightly. "How did you get the Grey Lady to tell you where she hid the diadem?"

Tom smirked. "I thought you know that I can be very persuasive."

"I wasn't aware that worked in regard to ghosts."

"Well, it did." Tom strode ahead, moving almost noiselessly, his wand at the ready.

Suddenly they heard some branches break in the vicinity. Tom abruptly stopped, his eyes narrowing.

Cassiopeia held her breath. There surely were various creatures living in this forest that she preferred not to stumble upon. She felt her heart beating rapidly. She glanced at Tom. He didn't seem to be fazed at all. His eyes were scanning their surroundings thoroughly, and they were shining with excited anticipation. Cassiopeia exhaled quietly. She felt safe in his company. She noticed the irony that was implied in this feeling, but she couldn't help the ghost of a smile flicker across her face.

Tom quickly pulled her behind the massive trunk of a tree, hiding behind it as well. From their hiding place he watched two dark figures approach slowly. A slight look of disappointment crossed his features when he realized they were only wizards. He stepped out from behind the tree.

The two men were startled when they saw him. Then they regained their composure, realizing that he was just a teen.

"Now, what are you doing out here, boy? This is a dangerous place to be," one of the wizards snickered.

The other nodded. "You could meet some evil villains out here," he added maliciously.

Tom looked at them, his gaze cold and steady, the familiar contempt shining in his eyes.

The first wizard moved a little closer. "And I see you brought your girlfriend. Not the best day for you, lass, I'd say." He shot Cassiopeia a greedy glance.

Tom felt Cassiopeia tense behind him. He eyed the man disdainfully, but the wizard made to approach nonetheless.

Cassiopeia sensed Tom's magic crackling violently around him, but the two wizards seemed to be completely unaware of the danger. They exchanged vicious looks and stepped even closer.

"Stop moving." Tom's voice was cold and sharp, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

The two wizards laughed spitefully. "Who do you think you are, boy?"

Cold fury washed over Tom, and with a quick movement he brandished his wand at the two wizards. Cassiopeia felt a wave of powerful dark magic pass her. The curses hit the two men straight in the chest before they even had the chance to see them coming. They silently crumpled to the ground, their greedy eyes now an empty, lifeless stare.

"Pathetic fools," Tom hissed contemptuously. "So easily deceived by looks." He eyed the bodies of the two wizards with a bored and disgusted expression, twirling his wand in his hand.

Cassiopeia glanced at Tom. He had killed the two men without batting an eyelid. There was no guilt in his eyes, no regret, nothing but coldness. Cassiopeia knew she ought to be appalled by his utter lack of conscience but again she wasn't. Instinctively she moved closer to Tom, inevitably lured to him by the unlimited power he was radiating.

Tom sensed her standing only inches away from him, and again it was strangely reassuring. He wondered if he would ever get used to that.

* * *

In the evening they set up the tent and cast various Protective Charms around it, shielding their campsite from view and guarding it from unwanted intruding. When Tom entered the tent, Cassiopeia finally made up her mind to ask the one question that had been preying on her mind ever since Tom had mentioned Ravenclaw's diadem back then in the Heads' common room.

"What do you intend to do once you got the diadem?" Cassiopeia's voice broke the silence.

Tom turned to look at her, a hint of surprise in his eyes.

After a moment he said, "Nothing in particular."

Cassiopeia pursed her lips. "You would tell me, wouldn't you?" She eyed him warily.

Tom returned her gaze and pondered her question for a while before he answered, "There's no reason why I wouldn't tell you. It's probably no surprise to you that I originally wanted to turn it into another Horcrux."

He watched her closely. Her face didn't change, and he could tell that she had been expecting his answer. Tom pressed his lips together. After a moment he continued, "But I don't intend to do so anymore." He saw a look of surprise flash through Cassiopeia's eyes.

She raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Tom remained silent for a moment. He remembered his strange encounter in the Chamber of Secrets. He could still recall every single word the stranger had said. But what had happened down there in the Chamber that night was something just between the stranger and himself. There was no way he could ever tell her.

Finally, he answered evasively, "That's difficult." He twirled his wand between his fingers and shook his head. "I can't explain."

Cassiopeia watched him twirling his wand. She knew he was deliberately obfuscating his reasons. She remembered the night when he had suddenly and quite unexpectedly stopped trying to persuade her to create a Horcrux herself. She had always wondered what had happened that night, but she hadn't been able to come up with any satisfying explanation. Yet, whatever it was, it had obviously made Tom change his mind, not only about her Horcrux but about his as well. Cassiopeia continued to watch him. Somewhere deep inside she wished he were less secretive. But, then again, she wasn't going to push him. If he didn't want to tell her, she knew she wouldn't be able to make him change his mind. After all, he was truly stubborn.

Finally she mumbled, "You know, it's the right decision. It's going to save you."

Tom cast a glance at her and muttered, "We'll see."

* * *

The weeks in Albania went by, and finally they were able to track down the diadem. But when they approached the tree where it was hidden, there were suddenly lots of noises around them. Tom and Cassiopeia quickly exchanged looks and pulled their wands. Tom cast a shield charm around them, and they saw several strange creatures emerge from the woods. Tom squinted. It was obvious that those weren't wizards. He was sure it was some kind of magical protection for the diadem because the creatures didn't even look like living beings. His mind was racing, trying to figure out a way to fight them. They were circling Tom and Cassiopeia, who stood back-to-back, facing the nameless invaders. And then the creatures started attacking. Relentlessly, curses rained down on Tom and Cassiopeia, but they determinedly fought back. Cassiopeia kept casting shield charms while Tom sent wave after wave of offensive dark magic towards their attackers.

Cassiopeia watched some of the creatures fall only to reveal more of them coming from behind, their onslaught losing nothing of its intensity. She slowly started to panic. They were heavily outnumbered. She tried hard to focus on the protective charms she was casting, her heart racing.

Tom could sense her fear and pressed his lips together. He took a deep breath and intensified his attacks, casting his curses even faster. Her fear fuelled his wrath and made his magic grow even stronger, and finally, he gained the upper hand. With a final flick of his wand a wave of blinding fire blasted the remaining creatures away at last.

Cassiopeia crouched down, her body trembling and her hands shaking. Tom turned to look at her. His face was as emotionless as always, but he knelt down beside her, hesitantly taking her in his arms, trying to stop her trembling. He felt Cassiopeia slowly relax under his touch. She raised her head and looked into his eyes, pulling him close, and he knew it was one of those rare moments when they could completely let go.

* * *

When Tom finally held the diadem in his hands, Cassiopeia eyed him warily. There was unlimited greed and desire burning in his eyes, making him look so beautiful and yet so dangerous. Cassiopeia exhaled sharply and desperately hoped that Tom would be true to his word and not turn the diadem into another Horcrux.

Tom stared at the diadem in his hands. He could sense the powerful magic it was radiating. His magic was crackling excitedly around him, sparkling and vibrating in anticipation. Corrupted by the burning sensation of unlimited magical power, he felt the temptation to throw caution to the wind and make another Horcrux nonetheless. After all, there was no proof that his assumption was right and it was actually his future self who tried to prevent him from splitting his soul any further.

Tom carefully traced the gleaming gems with his thumbs, eying the diadem greedily, lost in his thoughts, and Cassiopeia felt his resolution waver. She bit her lip and slowly moved closer until she stood right next to him. In the desperate attempt to distract him from the diadem she brushed her hand gently against his arm.

Tom looked up. Cassiopeia's eyes were full of anxiety and foreboding, and he instinctively knew that she sensed his hesitation. He pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes. Everything would be so much easier if he were alone. Everything could be so simple if she didn't always make things so damn complicated. Tom felt his temper flare. He could still recall the sting of the stranger's words back then in the Chamber. 'Believe me, I know she would die for you. This is your chance to avoid making all the wrong choices. Don't wreck her. Don't wreck yourself. Don't waste all our lives. You owe me that.' Tom clenched his teeth. Maybe this was his chance to avoid making the wrong choices. Maybe she was actually going to save him. And yet maybe none of this was real.

He knew he had to think things through thoroughly. There was no need to make the decision right now. He carefully pocketed the diadem.

Cassiopeia slowly relaxed. She knew the danger wasn't over, but at least it was averted for the time being.

* * *

A few days later Cassiopeia received a letter from her brother asking her to come home because their father was seriously ill. Cassiopeia stared at the parchment, and she felt her mind go blank. She knew that if she had to leave Tom now, if he stayed behind now, there was a good chance that she would lose him to his burning desire for immortality for good. She had seen him eying the diadem longingly every night. She had seen the gleam in his eyes whenever he looked at it.

And yet she knew she had to leave. Her father was going to die. She carefully folded the letter and left the tent. Tom was outside, trying some of the curses he had recently read about. Cassiopeia watched him for a moment. Then she cleared her throat.

"I have to return." Her voice was hoarse.

Tom threw her a questioning glance, and she wordlessly handed him the letter. He skimmed through the text and folded the letter again. He knew it was finally time to decide which way to take. He could stay in Albania and create another Horcrux without having Cassiopeia anywhere near. He could finally have things the easy way for once. Alternatively, he could refrain from making another Horcrux and concentrate on achieving his aims without splitting his soul any further.

He contemplated things for a long while. Cassiopeia watched him closely, anxiety running through her veins. Even though his face was the usual blank mask, she knew he was debating his options, and she found herself praying that he would make the right decision.

A strange wave of relief washed over her when he finally said, "I'll go back with you."

* * *

Her father died the day after their return. In the evening Tom, Cassiopeia and Cepheus were sitting at the dining table.

Cepheus threw Tom a scrutinizing glance. "So you are the Slytherin Head Boy with the best Hogwarts diploma since Dumbledore himself?"

Tom held Cepheus' gaze. His voice was calm and slightly arrogant when he answered, "Obviously."

Cepheus smirked. "I always knew my little sister would aim higher than the standard pure-blood choice that was available."

Cassiopeia and Tom flinched slightly, albeit for different reasons.

Cassiopeia instantly felt her face redden, and she stared at her plate, suddenly wishing she were invisible. Little did Ceph know that, whatever it was that she and Tom shared, it certainly wasn't what he assumed. She cast a sideways glance at Tom who was still holding Ceph's gaze, his features devoid of any emotion and his face betraying none of his thoughts.

Behind his calm façade Tom was quite content that Cassiopeia hadn't told Cepheus about his blood heritage. He relished the fact that Cepheus obviously deemed him to be pure-blood. Of course Cepheus' unspoken assumption about Cassiopeia and himself was hilarious, but Tom wasn't going to tell him that. After all there was no point in setting Cepheus straight on this.

Tom's face was blank, his voice calm and sincere when he answered, "Your sister is special." He knew it wasn't even a lie.

Cassiopeia hissed, "Stop talking as if I weren't there, both of you."

Tom and Cepheus smirked. The house elf appeared and served dinner, and they ate in silence.

When they had finally finished, Tom looked at Cepheus again. "We'll be leaving after the funeral," he stated casually.

Cassiopeia and Cepheus glanced at him, surprise visible on their faces.

A smirk crossed Tom's face. "We were studying abroad when you called Cassiopeia home. We haven't finished yet, and we'll resume our studies." Tom's dark eyes challenged Cepheus to contradict him.

Cepheus held his gaze. After a while he replied, "I know my father was fine with Cassiopeia being away with you, and I won't question his decision. But," he narrowed his eyes, "I assume that I can rely on your intentions being all respectable?"

Cassiopeia slightly raised her eyebrows and suppressed a smirk. She was quite certain that Tom's intentions were nowhere near respectable whatsoever, although probably not in the way Cepheus was implying.

At first, Tom's features didn't change. Then he plastered a smile on his face. "I can assure you that I will in no way endanger your sister's reputation or the reputation of your family name, if that's what you fear."

Cepheus and Tom kept staring at each other. Then Cepheus nodded, "I take your word for it."

Cassiopeia doubted that Tom's word was worth much.

* * *

After dinner Cepheus and Tom retired to their rooms. Cassiopeia spent the evening in the library, waiting in vain for the tears to finally set in. When she left the library, it was already past midnight. On her way to her bedroom she passed her father's study. She paused for a moment and looked at the closed door. Then she carefully opened the door, and her gaze fell on the piles of neatly arranged notes and open books. Suddenly a wave of unbidden memories rolled over her. She felt the tears she had been expecting and dreading finally leaving her eyes. She slowly went to the desk and traced the worn wood with her fingers. Sitting down on the chair in front of the desk, she buried her face in her hands and let the tears wash away all her pain and sorrow.

* * *

Tom was standing in the doorframe, and for the first time in his life he was feeling uncomfortable. He had wanted to go to the library to get a book he needed. When he had passed the open door of Corvus Houlton's study, he had seen Cassiopeia sitting at her father's desk. At first, he had simply intended to walk past, but something had held him back. He had kept standing there, watching her crying and finding himself truly wishing he knew how to console her. Yet he just couldn't think of anything to say. He had faked compassion towards others again and again, but none of that had ever been sincere, because, after all, he simply didn't know how to feel true compassion. But right now, for the first time ever, he wished he knew, because, for once, he didn't want to act. He didn't know why, but he wanted it to be real. He wanted it to be genuine.

He pursed his lips and slowly walked over to Cassiopeia. Not being able to think of anything better, he simply crouched beside her, waiting. Without looking at him, Cassiopeia turned to him and buried her face in his shoulder. He hesitantly closed his arms around her, listening to her muffled sobs and waiting for her tears to subside.

He didn't know how long they had been crouching there, but it felt like forever, and his legs were already going numb. He shifted his weight slightly, trying to get his feet into another position. Cassiopeia's sobs had stopped a while ago, but she was still clinging to him, her face against his shoulder. Tom held her and waited patiently, his mind strangely empty.

With her face still buried in his clothes Cassiopeia suddenly whispered hoarsely, "Tell me you'll never leave me. Whatever happens, just tell me I'll never lose you."

The ghost of a smirk crossed Tom's face. For once, even Cassiopeia had to see something good in his Horcruxes, because, after all, they ensured that he wasn't going to die. After a moment he said, "I won't leave you, and you won't get rid of me."

Cassiopeia looked up and into his eyes, wiping her tears away with her sleeve. "You promise?"

He looked back at her, and his voice was uncharacteristically sincere when he replied, "I promise."

* * *

The older Tom had been laying low for many months. He had watched his younger self closely. When he had witnessed young Tom obtain the diadem and not turning it into a Horcrux, he had been strangely relieved. And then, slowly, things had started to change. At first it had been only his appearance, but then he had been able to feel it in his mind as well. With every step that his younger self took away from creating further Horcruxes his mind turned less hazy and his features turned less snakelike, making him finally resemble an older version of his younger self. Tom ran a hand through his hair that had been gone for so long. It felt strange to have it back. He frowned. He had always been ambiguous on his handsome appearance. There was no denying that it had made life easy and manipulating others ridiculously fail-safe. Nobody had ever suspected any evil under his charming façade and his angelic good looks. And yet he had never been able to block out that it were the looks of his disgusting Muggle father, the man he hated with every fibre of his being. But if regaining the original unparalleled sharpness of his mind meant that he had to put up with his former appearance, he actually was more than ready to accept it.

While Tom was truly relieved that his younger self had refrained from creating further Horcruxes, he observed the way things were developing between Cassiopeia and his younger self with some concern. However, he had decided not to interfere any further for the time being and instead just wait and see. He had to admit that he wasn't quite able to foresee the consequences that their relation might have on the future. But taking into account the way things had developed the last time around, he was aware that maybe Cassiopeia's influence on his younger self might even be advantageous. Maybe it wouldn't make him end up in the frustrating situation of being unable to kill a bloody baby boy who was supposed to have the power to vanquish him. Maybe there wouldn't even _be_ a baby who would be able to defeat him.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Thank you so much for reading! Maybe you even leave a review? :-)**


	9. Revelations

**Author's note:**

 **Thanks so much for all the great reviews! I really love that you share your thoughts on this story with me! Please continue doing so :-)**

* * *

 **Chapter Nine - Revelations**  


The evening after the funeral Cassiopeia went to Tom's bedroom. Tom was lying on his bed and was reading a book. When Cassiopeia opened the door, he lowered the book and threw her a questioning glance.

She closed the door, and, leaning with her back against it, she asked briskly, "Why do you want to return to Albania?"

Tom was slightly taken aback. "I told your brother, we…"

Cassiopeia interrupted him. "I know what you told him, I was there. But I don't want your lies, I want the truth. We haven't been studying in Albania. You wanted the diadem, and you got it. So why do you want to return?"

Tom pursed his lips and gracefully sat up, leaning back against the headboard. He eyed her for a moment before he finally said, "I want knowledge. Knowledge, that can't be gained from books. You know, there are things you have to be shown, things you have to experience, things you have to try for yourself. And, most of all, you need to be at liberty to do so. From what I've seen so far, I can tell that the wizards in Albania truly _live_ their magic. They live the Dark Arts in a way that would never be possible here. Albania is just different. Their government is not as silly and pathetic as ours, imposing all those ludicrous restrictions on the use of magic, oppressing the wizarding community only because of the preposterous fear of exposing the existence of magic to the Muggles."

He paused, and a look of contempt and disdain filled his eyes. "It's not the wizarding community that should be the one in hiding. After all, magic is might. The wizards are the ones with the power. Honestly, I'll never understand why the wizarding community was actually stupid and servile and cowardly enough to establish the International Statute of Secrecy rather than use the power of magic to put the Muggles in their place and create a world ruled by wizards once and for all."

Cassiopeia stared back at him and bit her lip. She felt her stomach clench unpleasantly. For the first time ever Tom had deliberately disclosed his opinion on the wizarding and Muggle world. To be fair, his view didn't come as much of a surprise, but so far her presumptions about his view on Muggles had always been based on pure speculation, so far she had always been able to give him the benefit of the doubt. Now he had finally put his cards on the table. Even though Cassiopeia truly appreciated his honesty, she was painfully reminded of her conversation with Dumbledore so many months ago.

After a moment she asked, "So that's what you want? A world ruled by wizards?"

There was a hint of surprise in Tom's eyes. "Yes, of course. After all, power is all that matters, and Muggles have no power whatsoever. They need to be put straight on that. There's absolutely no reason at all why _they_ should deserve to be the ones in charge of ruling this world."

Cassiopeia held his gaze, trying to figure out whether it made any sense to discuss this with him any further. Finally she decided against it. Instead she asked, "You think you'll get the knowledge you want, if we go to Albania?"

Tom shrugged. "At least I think it's worth a try."

Cassiopeia slowly nodded. She pushed away from the door she had been leaning against and turned to leave.

"Wait." Tom's voice was slightly commanding.

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow, throwing him a questioning glance.

Tom eyed her for a moment before he said, "There's one thing I want to set straight."

He paused. He was well aware that he had to choose his words carefully if he wanted this to go smoothly. He knew that she hated being patronized, and yet he felt that this conversation was inevitable. He pursed his lips.

"As I just said, I want to go to Albania in order to learn as much about the Dark Arts as I possibly can. That obviously means we'll have to find wizards who know more about the Dark Arts than we do and who are ready to share their knowledge."

He paused again.

"I'd say there's a good chance that this means they are going to be dangerous and ruthless, and other people probably won't matter much to them."

The ghost of a sneer crossed Cassiopeia's face, and her voice was full of sarcasm when she replied, "You mean to say they are like you?"

Tom's lips twitched slightly. "I mean to say we have to be careful." He exhaled sharply. "And I mean to say you'll always stay with me. You won't go anywhere alone."

Tom could immediately tell that Cassiopeia didn't like his order, and he inwardly groaned. Of course, once again, she just couldn't put up with a little obedience. It was truly annoying, and yet he had to admit that he hadn't expected otherwise. However, he was determined to get his own way, if only this once.

When she opened her mouth, doubtlessly intending to make a sharp retort, he instantly cut her short, his eyes narrowing. "And I don't discuss that. You won't go anywhere alone. You promise. Otherwise I'll make sure of it."

Cassiopeia stared back at him, unsure how she felt about this sudden protectiveness. Taking into account the fierce determination that was shining in his eyes, she didn't doubt that he would do whatever it took to get his own way.

"I'm not your possession," she hissed.

Tom felt his temper flare and pursed his lips but didn't reply. He had to fight really hard to keep his composure, but he knew that it wasn't going to help his cause if he lost his temper now. Nevertheless, her insistence on her free will was deeply annoying again, and so was her permanent insubordination. Why couldn't she accept something he said without arguing back at least only once? He was determined to do everything it took to secure this strange additional power of his magic, and that meant he had to make sure she would stay safe, no matter what. Unfortunately, again due to her stubbornness, she remained disturbingly mortal, which was likely to turn out to be a damn risk among some of the most dangerous wizards alive.

Tom exhaled sharply. He was well aware that trying to force her to obey him would surely backfire on him. A sly smirk crossed his features. Luckily, sometimes it didn't take brutal force to get things his way. After all, he was still a natural at manipulation, even though he hadn't used this skill a lot lately.

Tom carefully arranged his features into an innocent smile and tried his best to sound concerned. "You know, our trip to Albania is going to be dangerous." He paused for a moment before he continued, "Now, you're the one who always differentiates between right and wrong. So tell me, is it wrong if I simply want you to be safe?"

Cassiopeia's eyes widened just the slightest bit. She was well aware what he was doing and what he was aiming at. She knew he was shamelessly manipulating her once again, and yet she could do nothing against it. Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. She had to admit he was truly good at this. He had effortlessly taken all the wind out of her sails. There was no way she could contradict him now, and judging by the way his fake innocent smile was slowly turning into a genuine smirk, he knew that as well. He was truly a devil.

Cassiopeia slowly walked over to him and sat on the bed. "Well, it wouldn't be wrong if you actually simply wanted me to be safe."

Tom looked at her. She was smiling sweetly, but there was a glint in her eyes that told him she had seen right through him once again. Leaning closer to him, she whispered, her voice calm and pleasant, "But I'm not fool enough to believe that you care about my safety for _my_ sake in any way. Whatever you do, you only do for yourself. You solely act out of selfish motives, always. That's the way you are. That's the one thing I can always rely on. And that's why I want you to remember that I'm not your possession."

Tom stared back at her and pressed his lips together. Once again he wondered how she could know him so well and still care for him. After all, she was absolutely right. He was downright selfish, and everything he did, he only did for himself. She knew it, and, unbelievable as it was, she accepted it, and he didn't even need to disguise it. For the umpteenth time he wondered how anybody could muster so much emotion, so much empathy, so much….whatever it was? He kept staring at her, and he couldn't help feeling the strange, still unfamiliar and yet so unusually comforting warmth spread inside of him.

When Cassiopeia made to get up again, Tom instinctively grabbed her wrist. She turned to look at him. There was a glint of independence burning in her eyes that inexplicably sparked his desire. With a quick movement he pulled her back towards him. Their eyes locked, and he instantly knew what he wanted. He had long since refrained from trying to understand why ever he wanted it, and somehow it didn't matter to him anymore.

Cassiopeia saw the desire that was burning in Tom's eyes, and a wave of recklessness washed over her. She leaned closer to him, softly pressing her lips against his and running her hand through his hair. Her body was burning under his touch, and she felt him yearning to get closer. A wave of contentment spread through her, and once again she was swept away by the unbelievable passion he was capable of, despite his otherwise so emotionless and unfeeling self.

* * *

Tom and Cassiopeia returned to Albania. At first, Cassiopeia had wondered how Tom intended to find the wizards who would be able to broaden their knowledge of the Dark Arts, but she had soon realized that Tom had the uncanny ability to always immediately know who had the vastest knowledge of the Dark Arts and who was worth consorting with. When she had asked him, he had called it intuition, but Cassiopeia was rather convinced that he was simply taking advantage of his extraordinary Legilimency skills. This way or the other it surely was helpful, and they continuously studied and experimented with magic, travelling further and further into the origins of magical power and stretching and pushing the boundaries of magic as far as they could.

Cassiopeia finally began to comprehend the fascination that had lured her parents to the Dark Arts, the same fascination that fuelled Tom. The Dark Arts were an endless stream of power, eternal and ever-changing. They were unfixed, mutating and indestructible. The longer they consorted with the various Dark Wizards they met, the better Cassiopeia could understand what Tom wanted, what he desired and craved. She felt herself being lured into the world of the Dark Arts, and it cost a lot of strength not to succumb to the temptation to give in to the endless power that the Dark Arts offered.

Cassiopeia and Tom had been travelling through Albania for several months. They were sitting in the pub of the small village they had been staying in for the past weeks, discussing where to go next, when suddenly a young wizard approached them. Tom shot him a calculating glance. The man was in his late twenties, and his eyes were twinkling mischievously.

Without asking, the wizard sat down at their table and grinned, "We'll do great together."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"

"I'm your new friend." The man leaned back, his grin still in place.

"I wasn't aware we were looking for one," Tom stated, narrowing his eyes.

"Come on, I've seen you strolling through the woods with Magnus. Whoever's his friend is mine as well."

Tom cocked his head to the side. "Magnus has some interesting theories on magic."

"I'm better than him." The man's voice was confident.

Tom quirked an eyebrow, and a smirk crossed his face. "Prove it."

The other wizard returned his smirk. "Outside?"

"Outside."

They got up and left the pub through the back door. Cassiopeia slowly followed them. When she closed the door behind her, they already had their wands in their hands. Leaning against the wall, Cassiopeia watched them duel for a while. The strange young man was actually really fit. Tom seemed to enjoy the duel. Cassiopeia could tell that the stranger used a lot of curses they hadn't seen before.

The duel went on for a while until Tom finally asked over the noise of the curses, "Shall we call it quits?"

The young man grinned. "That's fine with me. We don't want to start this new friendship with winners and losers, do we?"

Tom sneered, "If you say so."

They both stopped duelling and stowed their wands in their robes. The young man extended his hand towards Tom. "I'm Floris."

Tom took his hand, and Cassiopeia already flinched before he even replied, "Voldemort."

Cassiopeia pursed her lips. She was convinced that she would never get used to his self-chosen name. To her, it was the dreadful symbol of all the hatred and contempt he was harbouring inside, the constant reminder of his disdain for everything Muggle-connected and, most of all, the ugly synonym for his heedless striving for immortality. If he had designed it to arouse pain and fear, she grudgingly had to admit that it was working. The sound of him using it made her feel truly sick.

Floris, on the other hand, didn't seem to be fazed at all. He walked back to the door. When he saw Cassiopeia leaning next to it, he looked at her and a smile crossed his face.

Extending his hand once again, he repeated, "I'm Floris."

Cassiopeia nodded, and, shaking his hand, she replied, "I'm Cass."

Floris grinned once again. "I'm sure we'll have a great time together."

Cassiopeia eyed him warily. Even though he was certainly handsome with his messy dark blond hair and his bright blue eyes, there was something about him that slightly unnerved her.

* * *

Tom and Cassiopeia were spending the evening in their tent again. Tom was reclining on the sofa, reading a book, while Cassiopeia was sitting at the table, leisurely building a house of cards with her wand on the table in front of her.

"He's strange, isn't he?" Cassiopeia suddenly asked.

Without looking up from his book, Tom replied, "He knows a lot of curses I've never seen."

Cassiopeia cocked her head, levitating another card on top of the house. "I know. But he's quite different from the other wizards we've met so far, don't you think?"

Tom shrugged. "He didn't seem very odd to me."

Cassiopeia lowered her wand, and the cards fell back on the table. "Maybe that's what's odd about him. He seemed so normal, somehow suspiciously so."

A smirk spread across Tom's face, but he kept reading. "You think too much."

Cassiopeia pursed her lips. "You're not being helpful."

Tom averted his eyes from his book and looked at her, the smirk still playing on his lips. "What do you want me to say? He's strange because he's not as rude, unfriendly and secretive as the others?"

"Maybe," Cassiopeia replied, and her voice sounded a little stubborn.

Tom quirked an eyebrow. "Why do you even care what he's like? We don't want to be friends with him, we only want to know what he knows, and that's it."

Cassiopeia looked back at him. "Well, I'm just not as good at treating people as mere objects as you are," she huffed.

Tom finally closed his book and suppressed a sigh. "So you want to discuss his personality with me? I'm not quite sure if I'm good at that." He smirked wryly.

Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes slightly. After a moment she asked, "Tell me, how is it that you simply don't care? Isn't it exhausting, never feeling anything?"

Tom shrugged again, his smirk still in place. "Well, I don't know otherwise. It's always been like that. It's rather…easy. Nothing to worry about, nothing to lose."

There was a moment of silence.

Finally, Cassiopeia raised her wand again and wordlessly continued building her house of cards. Tom watched her for a moment before he opened his book again and resumed reading.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

 **Please keep reviewing, you really make my day :-))**


	10. Revenge

**Chapter Ten - Revenge  
**

Floris lived in a small shack in the forest outside the village. There was no denying that he knew an incredible lot about the Dark Arts. Surprisingly, they actually got along with each other rather well. Floris was uncomplicated and easy-going, and he had a very dry sense of humour. However, Cassiopeia sensed that he had almost as little conscience as Tom, and he seemed to be similarly ruthless. After a while he invited Tom and Cassiopeia to stay at his house, and they accepted his offer.

One evening Cassiopeia was sitting on the old sofa in front of the fireplace. The shabby living room was lit by candles and oil lamps. Outside it was stormy and raining. Floris was rummaging in the back of the room and Cassiopeia was reading a book when Tom got up from the armchair he had been sitting in.

"I'm going to meet Magnus." Tom looked expectantly at Cassiopeia. "Are you coming?"

Cassiopeia threw a glance outside the window. The weather wasn't inviting at all. She slowly shook her head. "I prefer to stay inside."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "Actually, that wasn't exactly a question. We have a deal, you remember?"

Cassiopeia bit her lip. "Just this once," she whispered.

Tom shot a glance at Floris who was occupied sorting Potions ingredients. Finally, he exhaled sharply. "Just this once," he hissed.

When Tom had left the shack, Floris went to the window and watched him walk away. There was a hint of bitterness gleaming in Floris' eyes.

"I really didn't expect him to let you stay." Floris' voice broke the silence.

Cassiopeia looked up from the book she had been reading and threw him a questioning glance.

Floris frowned. "Honestly, what did he do to you that you let him imprison you like that?"

Cassiopeia averted her eyes. "He did….nothing," she stated in a low voice.

"It's a shame how he confines you," Floris huffed.

Cassiopeia stared at the book in her hands. "These are the terms we agreed on before we came over here."

"The terms you agreed on?" Floris snorted. "It's hard to imagine that he gave you a choice."

Cassiopeia pressed her lips together. She knew he was right, after all.

Floris walked over to the fireside and casually sat down on the sofa beside her. He watched her closely. "I know quite a number of Dark Wizards and, to be fair, they are all ruthless. Probably that's the reason why they love the Dark Arts. I don't even claim that I'm an exception. But I know that he's still worse than most of them. There's just nothing inside of him, nothing but coldness. He's empty. And it makes me angry, you know. I can sense the power of your magic, it's so strong, so passionate, so full of emotion. And it's all wasted on him."

Cassiopeia looked into his eyes. They were warm and clear, and there was an understanding shining in them that she had always longed to find in Tom's eyes, but that had never been there. She shortly wondered whether it was real or if he was just even better at acting than Tom.

Floris leaned closer to her. "Don't you sometimes want to know what it's like to be with someone who can feel like you do, someone who can feel at all?" He suddenly grabbed her hand and pressed it against his chest. "You see, I've got a heart that's capable of more than just beating. It's warm and alive, not just a stony block of ice."

Cassiopeia cast him a wary glance. He was so close, too close. His words were alluring and tempting and misleading. She felt the warmth of his skin, and it was so different from Tom's, and her heart clenched. Despite Tom's cold, uncaring, emotionless self she still refused to give up hope that there was something inside of him, something that was worth loving.

It was so tempting to take the easy way, to cherish the warmth and emotion that Floris was offering. And yet, she knew she could never betray Tom, even though he probably didn't even care what she did, just as he didn't care about anything.

"Come on, I'm not that bad after all. He is so much worse," Floris' voice was persuasive.

At his words Cassiopeia cringed away from him, and her gaze flashed to his eyes. There was a longing burning in them that she knew she couldn't fulfil.

Instinctively she reached for her wand, but she was too slow. With a quick movement Floris pushed her down on the sofa and bent over her.

"Get off me!" Cassiopeia whispered desperately. "I can't do this, I won't."

"He doesn't care for you, you are nothing to him," Floris hissed. "Don't tell me, you don't know that!"

Cassiopeia felt a wave of panic sweep through her body. There was no escape. Her wand was out of reach, and Floris was so close, she could feel his breath on her skin.

"I know you want this as well," he smirked, keeping her trapped under his weight, his body hard against hers.

"No, get off!" Cassiopeia screamed, desperately trying to push him away, but he was too strong. With another quick movement he had his wand in his hand and pointed it at her throat.

"Now, stop screaming!" he hissed, "Just give us a try."

Cassiopeia stared into his eyes, and, suddenly, they were just as frighteningly empty as Tom's.

"He's going to kill you," she whispered.

"He's not here. He won't know." Floris smirked and moved even closer.

"You're mad! I don't want this, not like that. Maybe, if it had been different, all of it, there would've been a chance. But not like this!" Cassiopeia tried to wrench away from him, struggling against his grip with all the force she could muster, when suddenly the door burst open, and Floris' body was forcefully hurled away from her. Cassiopeia's gaze darted to the door, and she saw Tom standing there.

Never had she been more relieved to see him. Never had she been more frightened to see him. And never had she seen him more furious.

Tom's eyes were burning with unlimited rage. With a few quick strides he was next to her, dragging her off the sofa and behind himself with his free hand, his wand pointed at Floris who was scrambling to his feet again, his wand in his hand as well, and the dangerous glint in his eyes matching Tom's.

"How dare you touch her?" Tom snarled. He furiously slashed his wand at Floris again, but Floris deflected the curse and laughed. It sounded cold and cruel.

"You actually care? Then how dare you treat her like dirt?" Floris retorted, slashing his wand at Tom in return.

Tom instantly cast a shield and hurled another curse at Floris who dodged the curse.

"You think you're better than I am?" Floris spat, angrily slashing his wand at Tom again.

Tom deflected the curse before he brandished his wand at Floris again, sending him crashing into the wall. Cassiopeia felt Tom's magic crackling violently around him, stronger and more powerful than ever before.

"Yes, I think so," he hissed venomously.

With another flick of his wand countless fiery snakes emerged from the tip of his wand. Hissing at the snakes in Parseltongue, he watched them slither towards Floris, a savage glint in his eyes.

Floris stared at the quickly approaching snakes with widening eyes. He flicked his wand at the snakes, but they didn't disappear. Tom kept hissing at them, and his mouth twisted into a wicked smirk as the snakes mercilessly wound around Floris' limbs, instantly rendering him unable to move. They kept winding tighter and tighter, burning his skin and slowly taking his breath away. There was a look of pure horror in Floris' eyes when he finally realized the snakes were going to strangle him. Tom watched the scene unsympathetically, a condescending smirk on his face and his eyes gleaming with sinister pleasure.

He couldn't quite believe his ears when Cassiopeia suddenly pleaded, her voice trembling, "Please don't kill him."

He slowly turned around and stared at her. "But of course I'll kill him." His voice was deadly calm.

Cassiopeia bit her lip. "He didn't know what he was doing."

Tom raised his eyebrows. "Don't be naïve. Of course he knew what he was doing." He shook his head. "You don't need to try, this time you won't make me change my mind. I'm going to kill him, and you won't stop me. He was dead the moment he touched you."

Instinctively, Cassiopeia reached for her wand, but with a quick movement Tom grabbed her wrist, preventing her from drawing her wand.

There was a hint of surprise in his eyes when he asked incredulously, "Now, you're not intending to fight me, are you?"

Cassiopeia stared back at him. She wanted to shake him and yell at him, make him finally see sense or, maybe, just make him feel anything at all. She felt powerlessness and desperation take hold of her. She felt numb and empty and tired and exhausted. Somewhere deep inside she felt the mad desire to push him away and fight him in the desperate attempt to get any kind of human reaction from him.

But at the same time she knew that even this would be wasted. Floris had been right, everything was wasted on him. He was bad, he had always been, and he would always be, he wasn't going to change, not for her, and not for anyone in this world, and yet she still couldn't help feeling this burning emotion inside, so strong and so hopeless, and, suddenly, she hated that she still loved him.

Her heart clenched. "I hate you." Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but it was heavy with the emotional turmoil that was raging inside of her.

Tom stared back at her. "You don't." He sounded confident, and yet there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Cassiopeia clenched her teeth. Her gaze was focused on the snakes, and a tear was running down her cheek.

Tom cast a glance at the snakes as well, and a look of satisfaction spread on his face when he saw that the light had left Floris' eyes.

Tom looked back at Cassiopeia and pursed his lips. "I didn't want to hurt you."

Cassiopeia's gaze darted to his face. Her eyes were blurred with the tears of bitterness and fury that she stubbornly refused to shed. She shook her head, finally losing her temper. "Now, just stop lying to me! You don't give a bloody damn about me, or anyone for that matter! You don't care whether you hurt me, and you sure as hell don't care about what I feel. And you know what? I hate you for this, but, even more, I hate myself for not being able to stop caring for you even though you're ruining me! I hate myself for just standing by and watching you wrecking me! I hate what you've done to me!" With all her force she pushed him away and, surprised by her sudden outburst, he stumbled a few steps backwards.

Tom's eyes widened slightly, and he found he was at a complete loss to understand what was just happening. Much to his surprise he wasn't even angry that she had shoved him away. He just wished he would know why she was so beside herself.

After a moment he said calmly, "You see, somehow I appreciate your concern. It's truly amazing that you never grow tired of trying to find any trace of humanity in me. It's not your fault that he's dead. But he simply didn't deserve better."

Cassiopeia stared back at Tom, disbelief shining in her eyes. He seemed completely unfazed by her rant. He remained just as emotionless as always, truly frustratingly so. Obviously, there was really no way of getting through to him.

She felt her anger slowly give way to a resigned numbness that was somehow even comforting. Tom's eyes were still devoid of any emotion, and she instinctively knew that he didn't understand any of this.

Her voice was toneless when she said, "No one deserves dying like this, Tom."

Tom pursed his lips again. "He did." His voice was still utterly unconcerned.

Finally, Cassiopeia shook her head and averted her gaze. "Your lack of conscience is corrupting your judgment."

Tom's mouth slowly twisted into a wry smirk. "You call it lack of conscience. I call it infinite freedom."

Without paying any further attention to Floris' body, Tom sat down on the sofa and took a book from the table in front of him. He leaned back and started reading.

Cassiopeia kept staring at him, and, suddenly, his terrifying lack of emotion truly scared her. She simply didn't want to imagine where his ruthlessness would take them one day.

Finally, she tore her gaze away from Tom and slowly walked over to Floris. The snakes had disappeared. She knelt down and ran a hand over his face, closing his eyes with her fingers. She knew that he had had his flaws, to say the least, but in some ways he had still been right, after all. He had seen Tom for who he really was. He hadn't deserved dying like this.

She carefully levitated Floris' body out of the shack. Pointing her wand at a nearby tree, she muttered a spell, and a grave appeared at the bottom of the tree. She eyed it for a moment, still feeling terrifyingly numb, before she levitated the corpse into the grave. Casting a last glance at Floris, she flicked her wand again and sealed the grave.

When she returned to the living room, Tom looked up from his book. "What did you do?"

"I eliminated the traces of your inhumanity," Cassiopeia replied tonelessly and went to the window.

Leaning with her side against it, she looked outside and watched the raindrops running down the glass. There was something steady about the raindrops, something comforting and reassuring.

There was a long silence. Finally Tom cleared his throat, but his voice was still hoarse when he said, "I know he was probably right about me, with what he said. But he wasn't all that honourable either, no matter what he told you."

He watched Cassiopeia closely, but her face was unreadable. Tom bit his lip and looked at the book in his hands. "He would have hurt you if I hadn't stopped him. We both know what he would have done."

Cassiopeia still didn't reply, and Tom felt slightly unnerved by her lack of response. That was just so not like her. He didn't know why but somehow he wanted her to react at last. He wanted her to react and tell him everything was alright.

A frown crossed his face. He had never cared about any other's opinion, so why did he care now? But then again, things had always been different with her. Tom bit his lip even harder. Her lack of response truly made him feel sick. It was an unfamiliar sensation. Unfamiliar and unpleasant. He had never felt anything like this before, and he had never even thought he would be capable thereof. Thinking about it, he had not really missed out on anything by not knowing this feeling before. But now the feeling was there, and he wanted it to go away again, quickly. He knew he really needed her to react at last.

Still staring at the book in his hands, he decided to try explaining once again. "I only did it to protect you. There are probably a lot of nasty things that can be said about me, but I'm not treating you like dirt. That's simply not true." He gritted his teeth and paused for a moment. "Granted, I'm selfish, and maybe I wanted our deal out of selfish motives, but I wanted it to protect you, I wanted it because…because you are special to me."

He looked up and saw Cassiopeia watching him. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he knew she was trying to determine if he was lying again, if he was trying to manipulate her again.

He suddenly wished he could prove that he was truly meaning what he was saying. But he was well aware that this was the obvious downside of his manipulative, lying self. She didn't believe him. He looked back at his hands.

"I know I can't prove it, and I can't blame you if you don't believe me. But you have been special ever since you first talked to me. And I am _not_ treating you like dirt."

He sounded stubborn, and Cassiopeia truly wished she could just believe him. But it was hard. It was far easier to know when he was lying than to know when he was not. She wanted to believe him, but she simply couldn't help wondering if, finally, this time he was acting so perfectly at last that she just wasn't able to see through him.

There was a long silence. Then she said, "I really want to believe you. But you don't make it easy, you know."

Tom pursed his lips. "Yes, I know."

Following a sudden impulse, he got up and joined her at the window. Cassiopeia felt him standing next to her. His magic was crackling subtly around him, and it was radiating an uncharacteristic honesty and sincerity, something that his words hadn't been able to convey. His magic was comforting her again, gently reaching out to her own magic and making her feel strangely at ease. The ghost of a smile crossed her face. She knew that she could trust his magic, because that was the one thing he wasn't able to manipulate, the one thing about him that was honest, the one thing that was reliable. He could keep control of his magic but he couldn't change its vibration.

They kept watching the rain outside in silence until Tom cleared his throat once again.

"There's a spell I want to try." He twirled his wand between his fingers.

Cassiopeia cast him a wary glance. "What does it do?"

"It creates a bond between us. A bond that enables communication." He paused. After a moment he added, "And it will alert me whenever you're in danger. Unlike tonight, then it won't be just a fortunate coincidence that I arrive in time. If it works, something like this will never happen again."

Cassiopeia eyed him for a while. Then she asked, "What do you need?"

"Your left arm."

Cassiopeia slowly rolled up the sleeve of her left arm. Tom reached out and seized her wrist. He traced her inner forearm with his long pale fingers, noticing how warm she was compared to his cold fingers. Then he carefully pointed his wand at her skin and brandished it, whispering the incantation. The wood of his wand traced the skin of her arm, leaving behind the fiery outline of a skull with a winding serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. Tom watched with fascination as the mark burned into her skin, leaving a faint red brand, looking beautiful against her skin.

"Try it," he demanded.

Cassiopeia took her wand out of her pocket and pointed it at the mark. The moment her wand touched the brand, the outline grew jet black, and Tom felt a burning sensation.

"It works." He sounded satisfied.

Cassiopeia removed her wand, and the mark slowly turned back to its original colour. She stared at the familiar outline, suddenly remembering the night of Tom's eighteenth birthday out in the Scottish Highlands, and the faintest trace of a smile crossed her face.

Tom leaned closer to her, gently lifting her chin with his hand, and she looked into his eyes and found herself drowning in their beautiful darkness once again. When Tom finally kissed her lips, pulling her close and holding her tight, she felt all her thoughts fading from her mind. She knew she just wanted to be right there, in his arms, with his magic embracing her and guarding her from any harm.

* * *

The older Tom was watching the events with considerable curiosity and growing awareness. He couldn't deny that things seemed to go smoothly, actually much more so than the last time around, and yet to some extent things seemed to be far more complicated. Obviously, there was one main difference, because, after all, last time he had been alone, and he had been several years older. But having put further Horcrux creation plans on hold, there had been no necessity to waste time working for Borgin and Burkes. Tom had to admit that he didn't miss working for the greedy old man, and the dirty shop had always disgusted him anyway.

Strange as it was he found that somehow he envied his younger self. He had everything that he had always wanted to have. Tom pursed his lips. He couldn't wait for the moment when all of this would finally be his again.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Thanks so much for reading, following, favouriting and reviewing! I always love your ideas :-)**


	11. Reunion

**Chapter Eleven - Reunion  
**

Tom and Cassiopeia continued travelling abroad for a while. After the incident with Floris Tom insisted on them staying together wherever they went, and Cassiopeia didn't defy him anymore. They took to sleeping in their tent again as Tom thought it was the safest place to stay, with the innumerable wards and Protective Charms they cast around it.

One evening, they were sitting in the tent when Tom received an owl from Malfoy, informing him he was about to get married and inviting him to the wedding reception. Tom eyed the expensive parchment and wondered if he should attend. He hadn't seen anyone of his Slytherin gang since graduation, but they had kept in touch through letters. His knights had obediently informed him on everything they thought of importance while Tom had always shortly acknowledged their letters, prompting them to continue with their reports.

Putting the letter back into the envelope, Tom stated casually, "Malfoy's getting married."

Cassiopeia looked up from the book she had been reading.

"He invited me." Tom pointed at the letter.

"Are you going to attend?" Cassiopeia's voice was curious.

Tom shrugged. "Maybe."

"Wouldn't you like to meet them again? It's been a long time, isn't it? You used to be so inseparable back at Hogwarts. Don't you miss them?" Cassiopeia asked, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"Seriously?" Tom raised an eyebrow. "You don't expect an answer, do you?"

Cassiopeia smirked. "No."

Tom leaned back in his chair. "But I think I might actually want to reunite them. Maybe the wedding's a good time for this. After all, things have to move on eventually."

Cassiopeia didn't reply. She was quite convinced that she didn't want things to 'move on' the way Tom meant them to.

* * *

Tom was sitting in the hall of Malfoy Manor and watched Malfoy and his bride Drogheda standing at the front and listening devoutly to the horribly empty words of the wizard who was performing the wedding ceremony. Tom wondered once again why he had even bothered to attend. The dreadful wizard was droning on endlessly about the wonderful miracle of never-ending love, and Tom had to suppress the strong urge to stun the man on the spot. He was quite certain that Malfoy wasn't feeling anything like the undying love towards Drogheda that this fool was proclaiming. He had no doubt that this was a simple marriage of convenience. Malfoy was supposed to produce a legitimate heir, and therefore he needed to be married, nothing more, nothing less.

Tom felt his temper flare when he thought about the valuable time he was wasting listening to this awful speech. There were so many more useful things he could have done.

He snapped out of his musings when he saw the people around him finally starting to get up. He decided to let the others leave the hall first and remained seated.

When he finally got up, he suddenly heard a dreadfully familiar voice behind him exclaim, "Tom! What a delightful coincidence to meet you here! It's been such a long time!"

Tom slowly turned around and found himself face to face with Andromeda Yaxley.

"Yaxley," he acknowledged unenthusiastically.

Yaxley flashed her impeccable teeth at him. Her long blonde locks were arranged into a complicated up-do, but basically she still looked the same as when he had last seen her at Hogwarts.

"So what have you been doing all this time?" Yaxley smiled sweetly.

"Travelling and studying magic," Tom answered curtly.

"That sounds wonderful! You'll have to tell me all about it!" She kept smiling at him, still the same look of deep infatuation in her eyes that he remembered from their time at Hogwarts.

Tom resisted the urge to sneer at her and instead simply didn't reply, hoping she would leave, but, unfortunately, he had no such luck.

"Uhm, so….are you in the company of someone?" Yaxley piped.

Tom narrowed his eyes. "No, I'm on my own." He suddenly wished he weren't.

Yaxley's smile grew even wider. "Oh, so am I. Isn't that a sign?"

Tom thought it might be the sign that he wasn't the only male who was annoyed by her. He eyed her again. She really was still the same as before, very pretty and utterly brainless.

"Maybe we're even sitting together at the reception!" Yaxley sounded hopeful.

Tom suppressed a scowl. He definitely hoped Malfoy had had more sense than that and had not even considered seating him anywhere near Yaxley. If he had to sit with her for dinner, he would certainly make sure that Malfoy would pay for this.

"Well, we should check that, shouldn't we?" he replied briskly.

With Yaxley following him close on his heels, he left the hall and went straight to the chart with the seating arrangements for the reception. With a quick glance at the chart he saw that she fortunately wasn't going to sit anywhere near him.

"It seems Malfoy planned differently," he stated, pointing at the chart and half-heartedly trying to keep the relief out of his voice.

Yaxley seemed truly disappointed, but Tom didn't mind. He turned around to find his former Slytherin gang, when he noticed she made to follow him again.

He exhaled sharply. "You don't need to follow me around, Yaxley. Surely I'm not the only one you know at this party?"

Yaxley looked slightly taken aback. "But I thought…"

"I have business to attend to," Tom interrupted her.

Yaxley nodded slowly. "Oh…alright." There was disappointment shining in her eyes again. "But maybe you save me a dance?" she asked hopefully.

Tom stared back at her and raised his eyebrow slightly. He was quite sure he would rather make the whole manor explode. He didn't bother to reply and let his gaze sweep over the crowd of guests, trying to find any of his knights.

Finally, he spotted Lestrange and Avery and strode over to them.

When Lestrange and Avery saw him, they immediately lowered their eyes and slightly bowed their heads, muttering, "My lord."

Tom acknowledged them with a short nod. "Where are the others?"

"Uhm…Nott and Mulciber are over there," Lestrange said, pointing at the bar at the other end of the room.

"Get them and Rosier and Black, and meet me in the garden," Tom ordered.

Lestrange and Avery instantly nodded.

Tom turned around and walked to the doors that led outside. He had just left the manor and was heading towards the maze in the rear garden when he registered to his utter chagrin that Yaxley was still following him like a lost puppy.

He shot her a slightly annoyed glance, but she seemed oblivious to it. He felt his temper flare. He was really beginning to run out of patience.

Finally, he briskly turned around. "Yaxley, why do you keep following me? Didn't I make myself clear enough?"

Yaxley looked surprised and a little desperate. "But Tom, why don't you just give us a chance?"

Tom glowered at her. Suddenly, the image of her being slumped against the wall of a dark Hogwarts corridor and Cassiopeia pointing her wand at her, eyes burning with anger, flashed through his mind, and a smirk crossed his face when he remembered the events of that night. Then he focused on Yaxley again.

"Obviously, you don't get it. There is no 'us', and there'll certainly never be," he spat.

Yaxley looked hurt. "But…I thought…," she stammered.

Tom glared at her. He felt his magic radiating from him and struggled slightly to keep his temper in check. He shortly wondered why he even tried to hold back when it would be so easy to lure her into a secluded part of the maze behind him and teach her to never meddle with him again. He felt his hand itching to draw his wand, itching to go through with this idea and finally curse all the disgusting infatuation out of her once and for all. He felt his magic crackling in excitement at the thought. His mouth twisted into a vicious smirk when he imagined the sinister pleasure that torturing the hell out of her would be going to be. This time he wouldn't even need to erase her memory. It certainly would be immensely entertaining.

And yet he wasn't able to drown out that small voice in the back of his head that was consistently pleading with him to refrain from going through with this. A frown crossed his features. The voice wasn't his, but it was tenacious, and he was well aware whose it was. Suddenly he could vividly imagine what having a conscience might feel like. He gritted his teeth.

"You had better leave now before I lose my patience and show you just how certain I am that there will never be any 'us'," he snarled, his magic crackling dangerously around him.

Yaxley's eyes had widened just the slightest bit, fear suddenly evident in them. She seemed to get his point at last. She swallowed and wordlessly nodded before she turned to hurry back to the manor.

A sneer spread across Tom's features. His fingers lightly brushed his wand in his pocket. 'Happy now?' he thought wryly, and somewhere in his mind he saw her smiling and his anger slowly subsided.

When Lestrange, Avery, Mulciber, Nott, Black and Rosier arrived at the maze, Tom motioned them around a few corners. The boys followed him, and he conjured several seats.

When they sat down, he cleared his throat. "My knights, it's been quite a long time, but I hope you're still true to our cause and still ready to follow through with our ideals."

The others instantly nodded their consent.

Tom eyed them for a moment. "Very well, then. I have returned to England, and I intend to reunite our little group. I take it that most of you are working for the Ministry by now?"

Lestrange nodded. "Rosier and I are working for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, my lord. Malfoy is working for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, Nott for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Mulciber for the Department of Magical Transportation and Avery for the Department of Mysteries. Black is soon going to be working for the Minister herself."

Tom nodded thoughtfully. "Strategically great initial positions."

"How do you intend to proceed?" Avery asked.

"Obviously we won't be able to discuss that tonight." Tom's voice was dismissive. "But we'll be meeting regularly again from now on, and I'll tell you all about the strategy that you'll need to know."

The others nodded eagerly.

Lestrange raised his voice again. "My lord, I think I can speak for all of us if I say that we're truly glad that you're back. We've been waiting for this for quite a while."

Tom instantly noticed the immanent complaint, and a sneer crossed his face. "I really appreciate your patience, Lestrange, and I can assure you that you won't be disappointed once we're done."

Lestrange immediately lowered his eyes again. "Of course, my lord."

Rosier cleared his throat. "My lord, may I….may I ask a question?" His voice was trembling slightly.

Tom raised his eyebrows. "Go ahead."

"We…uhm, we wondered…what happened to Houlton?" Rosier mumbled.

A look of surprise crossed Tom's features before his mouth twisted into a smirk. "Again? Do I look like her guardian?" His voice was mocking. "You keep worrying about me and her quite a lot, don't you?" he sneered.

The boys stared uncomfortably at their feet, but Tom could sense that they were waiting for an answer. He raised his eyebrows again.

"So what do you want me to tell you?" he finally asked.

Rosier pursed his lips, shooting a glance at his companions, but none of them came to his rescue. Not meeting Tom's eyes, he muttered, "We only wondered why she's not here with you."

Tom looked back at Rosier. Actually he had wondered the same ever since he had arrived at the dreadful wedding reception. But when he had told Cassiopeia that he intended to reunite his Slytherin gang, she had suddenly been strangely distant. However, he hadn't bothered to investigate why and had simply refrained from asking her to accompany him. After all, he didn't need anyone and could very well get along on his own. He narrowed his eyes slightly.

"I don't see why that's any of your business," he answered curtly.

"No, of course, my lord, it's none of our business," Rosier agreed in a small voice. "We simply wondered if you….uhm, never mind." He shook his head slightly.

"Well," Tom sneered, "whatever it was that you wondered, just to reassure you, I can tell you that I neither killed her nor did I marry her. She's not here tonight, but she might just as well have been." He raised his eyebrows. "I truly hope that now that you have this terribly crucial knowledge you're all able to concentrate on more important matters." He leaned back on his chair. "So tell me, what have you been up to lately?"

The others slowly relaxed, and it didn't take long until they were deep into their discussions again, just like it had always been back at Hogwarts.

* * *

Tom returned to Houlton Manor late that night. When he entered the manor, he noticed that there was still light in the living room. Throwing a glance inside, he spotted Cassiopeia sleeping on one of the sofas. With a few noiseless strides he walked over to her and watched her for a moment. He sensed her magic flowing calmly and peacefully, softly radiating an aura of deep serenity, and he felt strangely at ease. He remembered the little voice in the back of his head, her voice, trying to reason with him and prevent him from cursing Yaxley. There had been something soothing about that voice as well, and it had held his temper in check.

He quietly pulled his wand from his pocket and flicked it once, conjuring a blanket and covering her with it. Waving his wand again, he dimmed the lights and sat down on the sofa opposite. He leaned back and propped his feet up on the coffee table. Flicking his wand once again, he summoned a book from the table and, with his wand lighting the pages, he started reading.

* * *

Cassiopeia woke to the sound of soft snoring. When she opened her eyes, she realized sleepily that she was still in the living room. Obviously Tom had returned later than she had expected, and she had fallen asleep. To her surprise she found that she was covered with a blanket that hadn't been there before, and the lights were turned off. She squinted across the room.

Illuminated by the pale moonlight she saw Tom on the sofa opposite and realized that it was him who was snoring, his head reclined against the back of the sofa and an open book on his lap. A small smile flickered across Cassiopeia's face. Clutching the blanket, she got up and carefully walked over to Tom. She looked at his sleeping form and wondered if she should stay. Gazing down, she saw his wand lying on the cushions. She carefully picked it up. When she touched the wood, she immediately sensed the wand's power. Even though it felt alien to her, it still radiated an inexplicable warmth and security. Cassiopeia eyed the wand for a moment. She couldn't help thinking about the many evil curses it had already channelled, and yet, surprisingly, the wand itself didn't feel evil in her hands. Cassiopeia cautiously stowed the wand at Tom's side before she took the book from his lap and placed it on the table. Then she sat next to him and covered them both with the blanket. She slowly reclined her head against his shoulder and listened to the calm and even sound of his breathing. His heart was beating steadily and reassuringly, giving her an incomparable feeling of protection. Pulling her legs up on the sofa, she hesitantly wrapped her arm around him. Comforted by his warmth she felt herself drifting off into unconsciousness again.

* * *

When Tom woke, the sun was shining through the windows, and the living room was bathed in a bright golden light. His back was aching, and he felt an unusual weight on his chest. Running a hand over his face and through his hair, he stifled a yawn and squinted slightly. Obviously he had fallen asleep while he had been reading. Looking down, he saw Cassiopeia huddled against him, which clearly explained the weight on his chest. She was still fast asleep. Instinctively, he fumbled for his wand but found it stored safely at his side. He shifted his weight in order to ease the pain in his back and pulled his numb arm out from under her body. Cassiopeia stirred, and he watched with slight amusement as a look of confusion spread on her face.

"Slept well?" he asked, gracefully arching an eyebrow.

"Quite cuddly," she muttered dryly and sat up, sleepily covering her eyes with her hands.

Tom leaned forward, and his back relaxed.

"So how was the wedding?" Cassiopeia asked in a muffled voice, rubbing her eyes.

"Worse than I'd imagined," Tom answered.

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow but didn't reply.

After a moment Tom stated casually, "You should have come with me."

Cassiopeia threw him a quick glance from the corner of her eye. "You didn't ask."

"Seems I have my flaws." He smirked. "But I'm sure you would've been proud of how I resisted teaching Yaxley a lesson she definitely would have deserved to learn."

"You met Yaxley?" Somewhere deep inside Cassiopeia felt a pang of jealousy.

A frown crossed Tom's features. "I tell you that I didn't curse that silly smile off her pretty face even though she practically begged for it, and all you care about is that I met her?" Tom glanced at Cassiopeia, and suddenly the smirk on his face grew wider. "Now, you're not being jealous, are you?"

Cassiopeia pursed her lips, and Tom chuckled. Then he stated dryly, "And I thought you knew me at least a little."

Cassiopeia didn't look at him, but the corners of her mouth twitched slightly.

There was a moment of silence before Tom said, "The boys asked about you."

"Really? Somehow I can't imagine that they missed me." Her voice was sarcastic.

"Lestrange surely did," Tom deadpanned. After a moment he added, "They wondered why you weren't there with me."

A look of surprise crossed Cassiopeia's features, and Tom continued, "You know, I wondered the same. Why didn't you want to be there?"

He returned her gaze expectantly. Cassiopeia looked thoughtful and a little taken aback.

Finally, she stated in a hoarse voice, "Well, it's all about your plans of changing this world. I involuntarily listened to a lot of quite disturbing ideas during your meetings back then at Hogwarts. I wasn't very keen on having more of those." Her voice trailed away.

Tom cocked his head slightly to the side. "What's disturbing about our plans?"

Cassiopeia gave a short humorless laugh. "What about _everything_?" She looked at him, thinking about how to explain her concerns. There was an expression of honest curiosity on his features as he waited for her answer. Cassiopeia exhaled slowly. "You see, I know that you want to gain power, and basically there's nothing wrong with that. Having power is probably great, and being great is certainly a respectable basis for gaining power. I have no doubt that you truly have the capability of being great. But I honestly fear that you may not use this greatness wisely. You may be just too ruthless, too uncaring and too vindictive for society to survive your quest for power. And I'm sure that none of these pureblood supremacists is going to stop you if you exceed the limits."

"Which limits?"

"The limits that guarantee that the world remains a place worth living in. For everyone, not only for those you and your knights deem worthy."

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Thank you for reading! Maybe you even leave a little review :-) ?**


	12. Refuge

**Author's note:**

 **Thanks so much to everyone who took their time and reviewed! I really loved to read all your reviews and truly hope you keep commenting :-)**

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve - Refuge  
**

Tom sensed Cassiopeia's gaze on himself and wondered if she was expecting an answer. He had no doubt that he would cross what she called 'the limits' more than once to achieve his goals. But to him it really didn't matter if the world remained a place worth living in for the unworthy. After all, who cared if they would despair over the changes he intended to establish? Who cared what would happen to them anyway? He didn't intend to preserve the world as it was for the sake of others, least of all for those who had never given a damn about him or about what they did to him.

Tom cast a quick glance at Cassiopeia. Apparently, his train of thoughts had been too obvious, because she suppressed a sigh and said, "It's the vast majority we're talking about. It will influence your plans, one way or another, whether you like it or not."

Tom shrugged. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."

* * *

Tom chose Malfoy Manor as the Headquarters for his cause. Malfoy had been overly enthusiastic to let the group meet at his home, and Tom was pleased to find that his knights had lost nothing of their enthusiasm and determination to follow his lead to finally dominate the wizarding world, purge it of Muggle-borns and put the Muggles in their place. They had by now inherited their family trusts, making them wealthy and independent. Their positions in the Ministry provided them with excellent prospects of finally subduing their opponents.

Tom had carefully contemplated the way he wanted to proceed. He was well aware that there would always be people who wouldn't agree with their idea of oppressing the Muggles and restricting the Muggle-borns. But it would definitely depend on his course of action how many opponents would remain in the end.

He knew he could strike brutally and forcefully, but that would doubtlessly arouse aggression and resistance. If he proceeded in more refined ways, more subtle, more efficient and maybe somehow even more cruel, he might win over even those who were frightened and appalled by too much violence.

His inner circle of Death Eaters was gathered in Malfoy's living room. Tom didn't know who had come up with the name first, but somehow he liked it. He reclined in the armchair and eyed the others closely.

"I'm aware you've been wondering for quite a while now how we are going to proceed. I've contemplated this carefully, and our highest priority surely has to be the government. We need to win the Ministry over." Tom's voice was emotionless and detached.

Avery sat up straight. "How are we going to do this?"

"Do you want to get into the Ministry yourself?" Malfoy asked curiously.

Tom cast him a glance and pondered the question for a moment. He had asked himself the same question several times. Finally he answered, "No, I don't think so. I'm not made for politics. I don't want compromises, I want absolute power."

Lestrange drawled, "What do you want us to do?"

Tom smirked. "You'll plant the seed of our beliefs into those who are amenable to our ideas, and you'll curse compliance into those who resist us. The change will need time, but with time we'll succeed."

Tom watched the others taking in his words. He could tell that they would probably be considerably better at cursing than at persuading, but he would make sure that they would eventually succeed in both.

He cleared his throat. "We'll be meeting once a week from now on, and I want you to restart practising your Dark Arts' skills regularly. We shall start with a few duels. I hope you haven't been too lazy during my absence?"

His knights hastily muttered their denials. Tom sneered at them, and the next moment he had his wand in his hand, and without warning he hurled a Cutting Hex at Mulciber.

Mulciber's eyes widened in shock. He didn't have time to draw his wand and instead dived to the side, barely avoiding being hit by Tom's curse.

Tom arched an eyebrow. "Interesting defence, Mulciber," he taunted.

Mulciber blushed slightly, the others snickered, and Tom instantly flicked his wand at Nott, non-verbally casting another hex.

When Nott ducked, Tom smirked condescendingly, "People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, don't you think, Nott?" Then he looked at the rest of the gang. "I still don't see your wands, guys. How are you intending to properly defend yourselves if you haven't even drawn your wands by now? Come on, all of you, snap to it! The world won't change if you don't get on with it and instead just keep relaxing in your comfortable armchairs! The world only changes if you change it!"

He kept his gaze firmly on Malfoy and Lestrange while flicking his wand at Rosier. A non-verbal Stinging Hex left his wand and soared towards Rosier. From the corner of his eye Tom noted that Rosier had at least drawn his wand in time and managed to block the curse.

"Well, I'd say there's a lot of work ahead of you. Your fighting definitely needs to improve again. You see, our plan…it's not about defending, it's about winning." Tom eyed the others for another second before he abruptly got up. In an instant he had brandished his wand at every single one of them, sending curses flying in all directions, and with a smirk on his face he watched as his knights tried to save themselves from his onslaught of aggressive magic. Tom didn't slow down his attack, and gradually the others warmed up to the fight. One after the other they started trying to return curses at Tom eventually, and Tom's lip twitched with satisfaction. Obviously, he had trained his knights well, back then at Hogwarts, after all. They only needed a little push, and they would be as good as they used to be.

* * *

Even though living at Houlton Manor was comfortable, and using Malfoy Manor for their meetings was easy, Tom's desire to have a place of his own had been growing stronger for a while. He had pondered things thoroughly, and finally he had decided to use the old Riddle Manor and create a place for himself, a place that would remain his safe haven, the one place he could retreat to and that others wouldn't be able to intrude on.

Of course he didn't want to use the disgusting house as it was, but since the Riddles had had no known surviving heir, the property had been decaying for several years, and the Muggles of Little Hangleton avoided it due to the disturbing circumstances of their last owners' decease.

Tom smirked. He could still remember the surprise and shock on his paternal grandparents' faces, suddenly being confronted with their son's young lookalike. He had truly enjoyed the look of horror in his grandmother's eyes when he had ended her husband's life with nothing more than two simple words and a mere flick of his wrist. Tom absentmindedly brushed his fingers against his wand in his pocket. Those two intriguing words had tasted so sweet on his tongue, so enchanting. The curse had come to him so naturally, it had been no effort at all. Thrilled by the experience, he had quickly flicked his wand again, this time directed at his grandmother, and the look on her face had been priceless.

And then only his father had been left, and for a moment they had been staring at each other, he and his father. Sensing the unbounded power of his magic, his father had stumbled backwards, stammering incoherently, but he hadn't paid him any attention. After all, there had been absolutely nothing that this disgusting piece of filth could have said that would have changed anything. He had relished the fear and foreboding in his father's eyes before he had finally flicked his wand one last time, and the beautiful green light had filled the room once again.

Blinking away his memories, Tom looked at the withered façade of Riddle Manor. It didn't take him long to think of an architecture that suited him. He drew his wand and set to work. He carefully shielded his changes from Muggle sight, preserving the fake appearance of a decayed manor, and banning any Muggles from trespassing on the grounds by various wards and protective charms. He truly got to live out the full extent of his magic as he cast countless spells until the interior finally resembled the Slytherin dungeons and the Chamber of Secrets. Then he put a number of Protection Charms on it, warding it against any kind of attack.

It took Tom quite some time until everything was the way he wanted it to be, but when he was finally finished, he was truly pleased. While he had been working, he had repeatedly pondered if he should share his secret sanctuary with Cassiopeia, but he had postponed making the decision time and again.

When he was sitting in the library of Houlton Manor with Cassiopeia, both of them once again immersed in the ancient magical knowledge of the books surrounding them, he suddenly made up his mind and said, "I want to show you something."

He watched Cassiopeia look up, throwing him a curious glance.

He wordlessly held out his arm for her to take, and the moment she touched his arm, he pulled her into the spinning darkness of side-along apparition. He felt her tightening her grip quickly, trying to stay by his side.

When they reappeared, she let go of his arm and examined her surroundings.

"Where are we?" she asked curiously.

A smirk crossed Tom's features. "Well, what does it look like?"

Running her fingers over the dark green cushions of the sofa in front of the fireplace, she muttered, "Like a place that suits you."

He slowly pulled his wand from his pocket and twirled it in his fingers. "I tried a lot of the spells we learned in Albania. They worked quite satisfyingly." He paused. "But I want you to be able to apparate here again."

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. "Surely your wards prevent Apparition."

He nodded and moved closer to her. "Quite right. But you'll be able to enter once I'm finished." His voice was deliberately unconcerned, and with a quick movement he grabbed her wrist with one hand and tightened his grip around his wand with the other. Without waiting for her to react, he swiftly slashed his wand across her palm and cut it open. To his surprise she didn't even flinch. He watched her staring wordlessly at him, and his lips twitched into a small smirk. Then he focused on her hand again. Blood was leaving the cut. He applied a little more pressure to her hand, and her blood started dripping on the floor. From the corner of his eye he saw her eying him warily.

"I only need some of your blood, and then this place will let you return," he explained. After a moment he added, "I trust that you don't misuse this."

Cassiopeia slowly nodded, her eyes fixed on her blood that was pooling on the floor.

Tom concentrated on his magic and fluidly waved his wand, muttering the complicated incantations that were required. Finally, the blood vanished from the floor. He smoothly flicked his wand at her hand again and non-verbally healed the cut.

Cassiopeia slowly withdrew her hand. "So this is what you did all this time," she stated.

He nodded. "What do you think?"

"That you're unbelievably skilled at magic. Old Slytherin would surely have loved this lair." Cassiopeia eyed the room again and sat down on the sofa facing the flames of the fire that was crackling in the fireplace. After a moment Tom sat next to her. They stared into the fire in silence for a long time.

Tom felt his magic running through his veins, pulsing strongly and steadily. He knew it was radiating from him and gently reaching out to her, but he didn't rein it in. He felt her magic responding to his, cautiously and yet confidently, and, once again, he marvelled at how his magic was being fuelled by hers. The pulse of his magic grew stronger and steadier, and he felt the now familiar warmth spread in his veins again. He leaned back and closed his eyes. He had read so many books. He had studied excessively and had expanded his knowledge of magic immensely over the years, and still this strange connection remained mysterious and unfathomable to him.

Finally, Tom cleared his throat. "There's something I want to talk to you about."

Cassiopeia glanced at him, and Tom eyed her for a moment, before he stated, "I've been going by the name Voldemort for a while now."

"I noticed," Cassiopeia replied dryly.

"But it's not only Voldemort. It's…"

"Lord Voldemort." Cassiopeia finished the sentence for him, cutting him short.

"Exactly." Tom nodded.

"And..?" Cassiopeia cocked her head to the side. "You want me to not call you Tom anymore? I already told you I won't use this absurdity of a name that you fashioned yourself."

Tom pursed his lips, biting back a faint stirring of annoyance. "Yeah, I got that. But it kind of undermines my authority if you keep calling me Tom." He narrowed his eyes.

Cassiopeia shot him a surprised look. "Maybe you noticed that I hardly use any name at all when talking to you, least of all when there are others around. Maybe you also noticed we're alone most of the time. I hardly ever meet your so-called friends."

Tom exhaled sharply. "Still, I want you to address me as 'my lord' when the others are around."

There was a long and heavy silence.

Tom kept his gaze focused on the flames flickering in the fireplace, but he felt Cassiopeia glaring at him.

Finally she deadpanned, "Really, now, do you?" After a moment she asked tonelessly, "But you're aware that this sounds alarmingly conceited and narcissistic, aren't you?"

Tom didn't reply. He cast her a sideways glance. She was still looking at him, an unreadable expression in her eyes.

Finally, she looked away from him and clenched her teeth. "Isn't it enough that the others boost your ego by ennobling you? Do you think they'll worship you less if I don't verbally bow to you?"

"It's all about showing who's in control." Tom shrugged, and his voice was emotionless.

"I'd rather say it's all about play-acting," Cassiopeia replied sarcastically.

Tom pursed his lips. "I know things are….different with us. But they don't. They submit to me because of my authority. I won't let you endanger this, just because of your stubbornness."

There was another moment of silence.

"I'm curious to see how you intend to achieve this." Her voice was calm and even.

Tom shot her a glare. He was well aware that she was doing this on purpose, trying to see how far he would go. She was probing his determination, and he knew he had to stand firm. He scowled and slowly pulled his wand from his pocket, tracing the wood with his fingers.

Her expression did not change.

Twirling his wand in his hands, he asked in a fake light tone, "Do you really want to find out?"

Cassiopeia looked up and into his eyes. They were blank and unreadable, once again not giving away any of his thoughts. She wondered what he was thinking. Was he actually going to curse her, just to make sure she would bow to him in front of his followers? She wouldn't put it past him. After all, there was no conscience that might get in his way.

And yet, aside from the Cruciatus Curse during their duel back then in the prefect's common room and the one time when he had tried to temper with her memory, he had never cast an ill-intentioned curse on her. She was aware that maybe she had just been lucky so far, but she still clung to the hope that there was more to it than just pure luck.

"Are you really going to use magic just to make sure I'll call you my lord?" she asked gravely.

"Maybe we should just try and find out." The false smile on his face didn't reach his eyes.

Tom was annoyed by her stubbornness. He was annoyed by this conversation, and, most of all, he was annoyed by the unfamiliar indecision that was still lingering in his mind.

He glowered at her. He didn't want to curse her. He truly didn't want to hurt her. But if she insisted on challenging him, she left him little other choice after all.

His hand closed around his wand, and he raised it slowly. But when he willed his magic to turn against her, he felt it whirling agitatedly inside him, subtly protesting about being channelled at her. He narrowed his eyes and determinedly tightened his grip on his magic, forcefully willing it to attack.

Cassiopeia could sense his magic's complaint, and she felt him fighting fiercely for control. She knew he would win, and yet his magic's initial resistance gave her a comforting feeling of warmth, because, even though there was no doubt that it would eventually turn against her, at least its compliance had been hard to gain. Her magic suddenly reached out to his, and she gently touched his hand that was clenched tightly around his wand. Their gazes locked, and she saw a hint of confusion and a ray of relief flash through his eyes.

"I guess we just did," she whispered. She firmly closed her hand around his, and his hand slowly relaxed. He wordlessly stared back at her. His eyes were largely devoid of any emotion, but she caught a glimpse of something that she had never seen before.

She exhaled slowly. "If this is so important to you, then I'll play along." She paused for a moment before she continued, "I promise they won't notice that it's only an act, but I trust that you won't fool yourself into believing that it's more than just that."

Tom nodded, but his mind was still trying to process what had just happened. His magic had never defied him like this before, and hopefully something like this would never happen again. He focused on the steady pulse in his veins, but there remained no trace of the previous occurrence. His magic was completely under his control again. Tom frowned slightly and looked at Cassiopeia's hand gently touching his, thereby mysteriously easing his tension and anger. Grudgingly, he had to admit that this wasn't the first time she was influencing him like this, but somehow it was still scary, because it was all irrational, and he wasn't used to irrationality at all. His whole life he had been nothing but rational, and he had always felt safe that way. Nevertheless, he couldn't deny that the wonderful additional power that his magic always gained because of her was even better.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Thanks again for reading, following and favoriting!**

 **Happy Easter to all of you, and maybe you even leave a little review? :-))**


	13. Moving on

**Author's note:**

 **Thank you so much for your continued support!**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen - Moving on  
**

Cassiopeia had been wary of Tom's gang of Slytherins from the very beginning, and the events of the evening back then in the Room of Requirement had shown her that she had not been mistaken about them. They would indeed obsessively follow Tom anywhere. Cassiopeia knew that she couldn't actually blame them, because, after all, the awesomely powerful aura of his magic was truly addictive and intoxicating, and probably even more so, seeing that the boys had been targeted by this unlimited force more than once.

Cassiopeia knew she had been trying to deceive herself for a while, trying to hope there might be a chance that Tom wouldn't reunite his little gang once again, but she had to admit that she had never been naïve enough to actually believe this and expect him to refrain from doing so.

No matter how much she disliked it, she knew she had to face up to the fact that he would engage in changing the wizarding world to his liking either way, with or without her. If she hoped to make any difference she would have to play along. In the end it all came down to what she had been suspecting for quite a while now, she was far too addicted to Tom's magic to ever back out.

* * *

Tom had just ended one of his Death Eater meetings. The news from the Ministry had been promising. Many of the important employees had been surprisingly easy to persuade into believing that Tom's vision of a world dominated by wizards was desirable to attain. Others had been won over by blackmailing them. Of course, there remained opponents whom they would have to fight in the end, but for now things were actually going well.

The others had already left when Malfoy cleared his throat. "My lord, may I make a suggestion?"

Tom shot him a questioning glance. "What is it, Malfoy?"

"I know that things at the Ministry are going rather smoothly. Still there are a few people who are not yet convinced but whom I believe we should not frighten off by using violence." His voice trailed away.

Tom glanced at him and pondered his words for a moment. "So what do you suggest?" he finally asked.

"Drogheda and I intend to host a dinner party this Saturday, and I thought about inviting those wizards. I mean, we could try to change their minds. I think..." He paused. "I think it might be helpful if you attended, my lord." Malfoy didn't meet Tom's gaze.

Tom raised his eyebrows. He thought for another moment before he finally nodded, "Fine."

Malfoy looked up in astonishment. Honestly, he hadn't been expecting that his suggestion would be accepted. "Great."

Tom turned to leave. Before he opened the door, he paused for a moment. Then he looked back over his shoulder and eyed Malfoy firmly. "I won't come alone."

Malfoy looked a little surprised, but he instantly nodded. "Of course, my lord."

* * *

When Tom returned to Houlton Manor, he went straight to Cassiopeia's room. He knocked and opened the door. Cassiopeia was sitting at her desk, writing on a parchment. Upon his entry she looked up.

"There'll be a dinner party at Malfoy's this Saturday, and you'll be going there with me," Tom stated bluntly.

Cassiopeia leaned back on her chair and eyed him curiously. He was still standing in the doorframe, watching her blankly.

A smirk crossed her face, and she got up and walked over to him.

When she was standing in front of him, she asked, raising an eyebrow, "So, to what do I owe the pleasure? Does his lordship need to pretend once again?"

After a moment Tom returned the smirk. "Maybe." He leaned closer to her. "But maybe I just don't want to go alone." His voice was seductive.

Realizing what he was doing, she narrowed her eyes slightly, but then her lips turned into a smirk again. After all, two could play at that game. She swiftly ran a hand through his impeccably styled hair. He didn't flinch, but she had the impression that it actually took some self-restraint.

She looked into his eyes and smiled. "I don't believe you." Her voice was light.

Tom's smirk grew wider. His eyes were sparkling with fire, darkly and possessively. "That's a pity." He closed the last remaining distance between them, shutting the door behind his back with a flick of his wrist, and his lips suddenly touched hers greedily.

Tom pulled her close, and Cassiopeia let him steer her towards her bed, his lips never leaving hers. She ran her fingers lightly over his back. Instantly she felt his body react to her touch. He pushed her down on the bed, and her lips slightly twitched into a small smile. His magic was swirling passionately around them, and hers was responding fervently. The uncharacteristic heat of his body made her burn under his touch. When their eyes met, the same spark of fire lighting both of them, they instinctively knew they wanted the same.

* * *

When Tom slowly rolled off her, he was still breathing hard. Cassiopeia turned to look at him. His hair was dishevelled, and his cheeks were flushed in a way that made him look a lot healthier and so much more alive. There was a dark gleam in his eyes that was so beautiful that she simply didn't want to avert her gaze.

Tom looked back at her, and a smirk crossed his features. After a moment he said, "You know, I don't even need to pretend." He abruptly propped himself up on his elbow and turned towards her. "You belong to me, and I want them to know." He paused. "And if, by chance, that helps persuading those suspicious critics that we're all perfectly unsuspicious and there's no need to oppose us, I won't complain." His mouth twisted into a wicked grin.

Somewhere inside, Cassiopeia felt an inexplicable contentment spread slowly but steadily. Even though she was aware that his statement wasn't exactly emotional, she knew it was probably the best she would ever get from him.

* * *

The party at Malfoy Manor was still going on even though it was already past midnight. Cassiopeia was sitting at a coffee table with Black who was telling her about his job at the Ministry in all details. Cassiopeia had been a little surprised that Black was so forthcoming, because as far as she could remember he had never talked to her during all their seven years at Hogwarts. But somehow, maybe due to the fact that they had been sitting next to each other during dinner, he had taken to telling her all about his life since graduation. At first she had repeatedly tried to interrupt him, but after a while she had realized that he actually had the ability to really talk entertainingly. While she was listening to Black, she watched Tom leaning gracefully against a nearby wall, eyeing the chatting groups in the living room. Black was just beginning to talk about how he got to work for the Minister herself when Cassiopeia saw a young brunette witch walk up to Tom. Cassiopeia couldn't help her curiosity and drowned Black's voice out a little, trying to listen in to another conversation.

Tom saw the petite witch approach and cast her a glance.

She slightly bowed her head and said in a silky voice, "Good Evening. I take it that you are Lord Voldemort?"

Tom nodded gracefully. "You're correct."

A smile appeared on her face. "I've already heard a lot about your lordship."

"Just the best, I assume." Tom smirked slightly.

"Of course." The witch kept smiling at him. "May I introduce myself, my lord? My name is Mirabelle LeCierge. I'm working for the French Consul at the Ministry."

"Nice to meet you, Miss LeCierge." Tom's voice remained polite but detached.

Suddenly, Cassiopeia realized that Black had stopped talking and was looking at her expectantly. She smiled apologetically at him. "Sorry?"

He knowingly smiled back. "I assume it's not easy."

Cassiopeia threw him a questioning glance.

Black shrugged. "He's always been the centre of attention and the target of many women's admiration."

Cassiopeia eyed Black thoughtfully, and finally she nodded slowly. Even though she knew that Tom wasn't like others, she still couldn't help feeling jealous as she watched him talking to this pretty little witch who was looking at him so admiringly and submitting to him so willingly. Cassiopeia bit her lip. Wasn't that what he wanted? Someone who bowed to him, someone who didn't always defy him?

She looked away. Probably she was just being stupid. After all, Tom did not care for anyone. He surely didn't care for that little witch.

And still, the sting of jealousy inside hurt. She frowned. She really didn't know what drove her to excuse herself from Black and walk over to Tom and LeCierge, but she just couldn't help it. When she joined the two of them, LeCierge was talking excitedly about the French movement that supported Tom's cause.

Tom caught Cassiopeia's eye, and instantly a smirk spread on his face. She had never been good at hiding her emotions.

Cassiopeia knew he had seen right through her, and she pursed her lips.

LeCierge seemed to grow aware of Cassiopeia's presence as well and finally stopped her rambling, throwing Cassiopeia a questioning glance.

Cassiopeia felt her heart speed up and mentally cursed herself for not having stopped herself from coming over. What on earth had she been thinking? Now she had to somehow explain her intrusion, and judging from Tom's smug expression he would surely be of no help. He had his mask of polite indifference firmly in place, but behind his perfect façade she could plainly see the derisive smirk that was hidden underneath.

Cassiopeia tried to mask her frustration and smiled apologetically at the French witch. "I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to interrupt you and his lordship. I'm sure you were talking about exciting themes. Please just continue." Before she turned to leave again, she gazed at Tom and lowered her eyes deferentially, muttering, "My lord."

Tom felt a wave of satisfaction wash through him, and he eyed her for a moment. When she was about to walk off again, he suddenly held her back and said, "Miss LeCierge, I think you haven't met Miss Houlton yet." He gestured at Cassiopeia. Then, quite unexpectedly, he added, "She's here with me."

Cassiopeia almost gasped in surprise, and she had the impression that LeCierge felt the same. With some difficulty Cassiopeia maintained her composure and smiled politely at LeCierge who looked a little taken aback.

"I wasn't aware that…" LeCierge's voice trailed away.

Tom slightly raised an eyebrow. "Nothing to worry about, Miss LeCierge. I'm sure your services at the consulate are extremely valuable for our cause. I really enjoyed your explanations. If you'd excuse us now."

LeCierge blushed and nodded. "Of course, my lord."

Tom led Cassiopeia outside. When they were out of earshot, he turned to look at her. "May I inquire what this was about?"

Cassiopeia bit her lip. Somehow she felt stupid. "No, actually I preferred if you didn't," she hissed.

A grin crossed Tom's face. "What did you expect me to be thinking?"

Cassiopeia didn't meet his eye. "I don't know. It's hard to know what you're thinking. After all, you never tell me."

Tom arched an eyebrow. "Actually I was under the impression that I didn't need to. I mean, you seem to know every bit of blackness that's there inside of me. I thought it shouldn't be too hard to know a few simple thoughts, now, should it?"

"For you, maybe. But I just know Occlumency, and that doesn't exactly help." She smirked slightly.

* * *

As time went by, Cassiopeia could no longer turn a blind eye to the fact that Tom and his Death Eaters were slowly but surely succeeding in gathering allies to overthrow the wizarding world and turn it into something that Dumbledore had originally asked her to prevent. She felt coldness spreading in her body, and with every day the numbness was growing stronger. She dreaded the path that lay ahead, but no matter how dark and deathly it was going to be, she knew there was no way she could ever turn her back on Tom. She was addicted to him more than ever. His magic had turned infinitely stronger and more alluring over the years. If it had been a temptation when they had still been at school, it had by now turned into a deluge of power that was irrevocably sweeping her away.

With his looks and his ability to use words so effectively he effortlessly lured others into his web, and by the time they finally realized that his looks were deceptive and his words misleading, they had to learn that the power of his magic was terrifying and the core of his personality cruel and ruthless, all of this undoubtedly rendering him the most dangerous dark wizard the world had ever known.

Cassiopeia had discussed his desire for power and domination with Tom time and time again, and in the end she had had to accept that his hatred of Muggles seemed to be rooted far too deep within to ever be erased. He craved to end the secrecy of the wizarding world and put the Muggles in their place.

Over time his Death Eaters got married one after the other, and they began to raise corrupted children, thus supplying Tom with a completely new generation of devoted followers. Tom and his Death Eaters spent years of infiltrating the Ministry with their ideas, consistently gathering followers and gaining support. Their strategic high-ranking positions within the Ministry of Magic enabled Tom to effectively destabilise the government from within.

There was no denying that they lured innumerable unsuspecting wizards into their fangs, and most of them even joined them willingly. Yet Tom never failed to manifest that he didn't tolerate disobedience in any form. He didn't shy away from using all those ugly dark curses that had always fascinated him, and he didn't care to disguise his savage self anymore. The rumours about Lord Voldemort that spread in the wizarding world were bloodcurdling. Tom still benefitted from his deceptive looks, but there was no doubt that it was unlimited fear that reigned over his followers.

* * *

Tom and Cassiopeia were sitting in the living room of Malfoy Manor. Tom was reading a book, and Cassiopeia was eyeing him warily.

"I still don't understand why you didn't keep with your charming masquerade. It served you quite successfully over the years, didn't it?" Cassiopeia shook her head. She had lost track of the number of times they had had this conversation. Yet, she didn't want to give up hope that one day she would finally get through to him.

Tom looked up from his book and smirked. "It's simply tiring to always pretend to be someone you're not. Don't people say it's better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not? I don't want to pretend anymore."

"But don't you think it's safer to gain power through admiration and affection rather than through fear and oppression?"

Tom shrugged. "Maybe. But there's no denying that it's so much easier to arouse fear than to inspire affection. And quite certainly fear is a lot easier to maintain."

"And yet the easy way is not always the best." Cassiopeia pursed her lips. "You shouldn't underestimate the power of emotions like love and friendship."

Tom looked at her for a while before he said, "I certainly won't underestimate the power of emotion. Even if you don't believe it, I actually know about the power that lies within."

"Then you're incredibly good at hiding that," Cassiopeia stated dryly.

Tom smirked. He turned his gaze back to the book he had been reading, making it obvious that he didn't intend to discuss his course of action any further.

Cassiopeia cast him a last glance, a slight look of frustration on her face, before she got up and left the living room, closing the door with a little more force than necessary. Tonight she couldn't bear this any longer. Fighting for Tom's humanity was exhausting. Every now and then she thought that, maybe, Tom really cared for her, somewhere deep down in the everlasting darkness of his self. But he still remained woefully unable to care for anybody else.

When Cassiopeia stepped into the hall, she was greeted by the screeching voice of young Bellatrix Black. "You should finally learn to show more respect to the Dark Lord."

The young witch glared at her, and Cassiopeia spotted that slightly insane glint in her eyes that always appeared whenever Bellatrix was talking about Tom. Cassiopeia shortly wondered why Bellatrix even bothered to date Lestrange's son, given that she was so obviously in love with someone else.

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I don't show him respect?"

"Slamming doors isn't showing respect," Bellatrix hissed venomously.

Cassiopeia pursed her lips. "I didn't slam the door. I can assure you, it sounds differently when I slam a door. And showing respect doesn't mean having no mind of your own. But I guess that's probably beyond you…" Her voice trailed away.

Bellatrix shrieked, and the insane expression in her eyes intensified. Then she drew her wand and flicked it at Cassiopeia, who quickly stepped aside, dodging the curse.

Cassiopeia instantly drew her wand as well and sneered, "How lucky the Dark Lord is to have you by his side, always blindly defending him, always brainlessly fighting for him, even if there's no one and nothing to fight against."

"I really don't know why he wastes his time on you," Bellatrix spat.

"There have been others who wondered the same." A mischievous glint flashed through Cassiopeia's eyes. "Yet, I would have expected you to have more faith in the Dark Lord's decisions. Who are you to question his motives and actions? Isn't that what you think showing respect is about?"

Bellatrix furiously slashed her wand again, and Cassiopeia quickly cast a shield.

"Already run out of reasons?" Cassiopeia threw a condescending glare at the young witch and produced another shield, absorbing Bellatrix' next curse.

All of a sudden the door behind Cassiopeia opened, and Tom stood in the doorframe, taking in the scene before him.

Bellatrix instantly lowered her wand. "My lord." She bowed her head.

There was a moment of silence.

"Care to explain?" Tom's voice was cold and piercing.

When Bellatrix remained silent, Tom threw an inquiring glance at Cassiopeia who was still glaring condescendingly at Bellatrix.

"Bellatrix obviously thinks I am not treating you with the respect you deserve. She seems to believe that respect means brainless devotion," Cassiopeia stated, her voice full of contempt. Then she turned to Tom and added, her voice now deliberately calm and humble, "I apologize, if you feel the same, my lord."

She looked straight into his eyes, and he could see the teasing glint shining in hers. He knew she was only keeping up appearances for the sake of his authority but she didn't mean what she was saying. He pursed his lips slightly. She truly was a challenge to his temper. He felt his magic burning vividly in his veins, and even though part of him desperately wanted to curse her, he simultaneously wanted nothing more than to be close to her and never let go again. He smirked wryly. After all this time, some things still had not changed. He stared back into her eyes and instinctively knew that she was seeing right through him once again.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Thanks so much for reading, reviewing, following and favoriting! You're really great!**

 **Anna: I really, really tried but I feel I failed shamefully. I contemplated deleting the scene again, but well, even though I'm not too happy with it, I decided to post it... Please don't be too disappointed ;-)**


	14. Reversal

**Author's note:**

 **Thanks to all the amazing people who reviewed again!**

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen - Reversal**

When open war finally couldn't be avoided any longer, the world was plunged into darkness and chaos. Nobody knew who was fighting on whose side, people no longer knew whom to trust, and Tom shamelessly used the panic and confusion to his advantage.

Cassiopeia knew she wasn't able to stop him, but she was determined to try and prevent him from blindly destroying innocent lives. She was aware that every war had its casualties and every victory its price, and she had always known that loving Tom was going to come down to making sacrifices in the end, because he was never going to abandon his ambitions, and he was never going to change. But as long as this war wasn't over, she refused to give up hope of being able to finally make a difference.

Tom's inner circle of Death Eaters brutally set into force whatever he wanted them to. He had branded them all with the Dark Mark, thus being able to summon them whenever he needed them.

Cassiopeia glanced at the faint red outline that graced her inner left forearm. There had been a time when this had been special. There had been a time when this had been the symbol of their unique connection. She sighed. There had been a time when this had been theirs.

By now, she always flinched whenever the mark turned to its jet-black colour, and its burning sensation only made her feel like one of the pawns Tom summoned whenever he pleased, wherever he pleased.

Cassiopeia remembered the evening back in Albania when he had first asked her to let him try the spell. Back then, this had been only between the two of them. Back then, the mark had still had a meaning other than pure domination.

She carefully traced the outline of the mark with her fingers. Tom had crafted it according to the emerald constellation she had created for his birthday so many years ago. She remembered the many nights she had spent experimenting until she had finally decided that the skull and the serpent suited Tom most.

The ghost of a smile flickered across her face when she remembered the night of Tom's eighteenth birthday, out in the Scottish Highlands, and the look of satisfaction and contentment in Tom's eyes when she had cast the Dark Mark into the cloudy Scottish sky. Back then, the mark had been its own kind of beautiful.

Cassiopeia bit her lip. She had never intended for her birthday present to turn into the symbol of every wizard's worst nightmare, being the dreadful signature that Tom's Death Eaters left wherever they killed.

Cassiopeia swallowed hard. It was tempting to grade the world by Tom's categories of power and weakness, pretending there was no good or evil, no right or wrong. Yet, no matter how much she loved him, she knew his worldview was an illusion, and believing it simply meant turning a blind eye to the truth and ignoring the fact that Tom was, after all, evil to the core.

She had always known that choosing sides meant choosing between right and Tom. Staring at the faint mark, she wondered whether one day there would finally come the time when she would have to repent for having stood by while Tom had set the world on fire. She knew very well that in the end it wouldn't help that she had always thought that his disdain for life was wrong, if she had never truly tried to stop him. Deep inside she knew that she was just as responsible for all his wrongdoings as he was, and contrary to him she was going to have to pay for it because she still had a conscience where he had none.

However, changing Tom's intentions seemed a lost cause. Cassiopeia was aware that in his circle she was very much alone with her opinion about the worthiness of Muggle-borns and Muggles. His pure-blooded pawns panted for domination over everyone and everything that wasn't at least half-blooded. With their help Tom mercilessly enforced his persecution of Muggles and Muggle-borns, consistently proclaiming their inferiority and worthlessness.

She knew she was walking on thin ice whenever she tried to influence Tom's deadlocked opinion. She was very much aware that it was only due to some twisted reason, or maybe no reason at all and just sheer luck, that she had not been long since tortured into insanity for questioning his beliefs time and time again. He had crucioed others, until they had begged him to kill them, for far less.

Yet she found herself arguing with him again, desperately trying to salve her burning conscience.

"Why don't you want to see that this pure-blood supremacy is nothing but nonsense? You're not even a pure-blood yourself! _You_ should know that the magical power doesn't depend on blood purity." Cassiopeia stared at Tom.

He narrowed his eyes and hissed venomously, "Don't you dare mention my blood status. That filthy scum that happened to be my father tainted the noble pure-bloodline of Salazar Slytherin with his disgusting Muggle blood, and there's no excuse for that."

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. "The noble pure-bloodline of Salazar Slytherin? Like your noble uncle Morfin?" Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, and she sounded much more confident than she felt. "You weren't that proud of him and his noble pure blood when you framed him for your crimes."

She could see that Tom was on the verge of losing his temper, but she didn't want to back down. She wanted this last try at making him see sense. She gritted her teeth and continued, "There's only one thing that has tainted Slytherin's noble bloodline for generations, and that's inbreeding and the consequential insanity. Probably your father's blood is the only reason why your mind is not as deranged as your uncle's."

Tom glared at her, his eyes blazing with fury, his face contorted with rage.

Yet his voice was deadly calm when he hissed, "Just shut up now, or I can't guarantee that I will leave you unharmed this time."

Cassiopeia flinched, but she held his gaze. "You know that I'm on your side, I've always been, no matter what you've done. You are the most brilliant person I know, and I only ask you to think about it. Your father and the Muggles at your orphanage may have been mean and ignorant, but there are lots of pure-blood wizards who are just the same. They are no better than them. Don't let your hate for a few people make you judge them all. Your blood is just the way it's supposed to be. It made you who you are, with all your power…"

Tom cut her short. "With all my hate, with all my contempt, with all I am? You say I'm just the way I'm supposed to be? Great, then we agree."

Cassiopeia bit her lip. She knew a lost cause when she saw one, and there was no denying that this one was more than lost.

However, for quite some time now she had been growing aware that there might be one last way to get through to him, even though it was probably completely insane. She was well aware that there was a good chance that this was going to make her life and everything that mattered to her finally blow up in her face, but she knew she had to try anyway.

Cassiopeia closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, painfully aware that once she had started there would be no going back.

Then she looked at Tom. Her voice was barely more than a whisper when she asked, "Now, what would you say if I told you my biological parents were Muggles? What would you say if I told you they were killed in a devastating fire that was started by little Cepheus who came running home with a crying baby girl in his arms? What would you say if I told you the Houltons adopted me to make up for it?"

There was deathly silence.

Tom glared at her.

Finally he spat, "That's not true."

His features were vastly emotionless, but she spotted a hint of panic and foreboding in his eyes.

"How can you be sure of that?" Cassiopeia asked calmly.

Tom pursed his lips and hissed, "I would know if you were…" He abruptly stopped in mid-sentence and clenched his jaw.

Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows. "If I was a filthy Mudblood? One of those unworthy you despise so much?" She paused. "How would you know? Back then, you didn't look for any memory of my childhood. You didn't see a single one." Cassiopeia's voice was toneless, and she shook her head. "You wouldn't know anything."

Tom stared back at her, forcing himself to stay calm and keep his temper. He instantly knew she was right. He hadn't looked for any memory concerning her early childhood when he had searched her mind that night after he had failed to erase her memory. And he hadn't seen any such memory. He had taken her blood status for granted. He had relied on her family name. For all he knew, her story might just be true.

Guessing his thoughts, Cassiopeia instinctively squared her shoulders.

"Very well then, now that we've set this straight, just go ahead!" Her mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "Tell me you despise me. Tell me you despise every single time you touched me, you despise every time you held me, every time we kissed. Tell me you feel sick at the thought of all the time you've spent with me. Tell me I'm disgusting, unworthy, weak, filthy. Come on, Tom. Tell me!"

Tom continued to stare at her, his mind suddenly blank and his mouth unnaturally dry. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he said hoarsely, "I can't."

Cassiopeia slowly moved closer towards him. "Oh, I'm sure you can. After all, it's what you believe, isn't it? There, inside your deepest darkness." She poked her finger into his chest and watched him closely. When she saw him flinch slightly, she sneered. "You see? It's already working. You don't want me to touch you, do you? You're afraid I might taint your precious wizarding blood. So, come on, Tom, tell me!" Her lip curled.

Tom still stared at her, trying to make sense of what she was saying, trying to get his mind working again, trying to get his thoughts straight at last.

He knew he ought to feel disgusted, he ought to feel betrayed. He ought to feel the need to curse her, torture her, make her pay, for what she had done to him. He knew he ought to feel a rage and fury he had never known before.

And yet, he didn't feel any of that, he didn't feel anything.

He stared into her eyes, the same eyes that had always seen right through his façade and into the cold, black darkness that was his true self, the same eyes that had always been so calm and reassuring, that had always been able to soothe him.

Tom averted his gaze and clenched and unclenched his jaw. For the first time ever he felt truly empty and dauntingly numb. For the first time ever he wasn't even able to feel the familiar hatred and contempt that usually reigned inside of him.

Finally, he exhaled sharply and forced himself to look back into her eyes. They were daring him to insult her, to hurt and break her, to just be himself yet again, and he suddenly found himself wanting nothing more than that they would turn calm and soothing again.

His voice was barely audible when he said, "I don't despise you. I don't think you're disgusting, unworthy, weak or filthy."

With a quick movement he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. "And I still want to touch you. I still want you to touch me." He paused and swallowed hard. "Your blood doesn't matter to me, but you do."

Tom couldn't believe his own words, and yet he knew they were nothing but the truth.

His mind was racing. This surely had to be a nightmare; this couldn't be true, could it? She couldn't be Muggle-born, could she? And, even more, it couldn't be that he actually didn't care about her blood purity, could it?

Cassiopeia sensed the turmoil inside his mind. She sensed his frustration, his confusion and his distress. She knew she had turned his world upside down, but to her unlimited relief he was still there, he was actually still holding her, he was truly struggling to make her fit in with his worldview.

She didn't know how this was going to end, but she was well aware it could have been much worse.

* * *

The older Tom was leaning against the wall, his mind almost as empty as his younger self's one. For once, he was lost for words. He didn't want to believe that Cassiopeia's story might actually be true. Something inside him vehemently refused to believe that she had been lying to him all those years, that she had been hiding something that important from him all along. He knew it was absolutely possible that her story was true, but, knowing her the way he did, he definitely wouldn't put it past her that she had told his younger self the story for the sole purpose of changing his opinion on Mudbloods.

Either way she had taken a great risk. But he had to admit he knew from experience that she was ready to sacrifice almost everything for him. After all, last time she had even been ready to sacrifice her life in order to show him the truth and make him understand. But, unlike himself, his younger counterpart obviously did not even take into account that Cassiopeia might have been acting on some ulterior motive when she had told him her story. Lacking the knowledge of the previous timeline, he seemingly wasn't able to even imagine the true extent of her readiness to save him and their souls.

Yet, he wasn't sure if he agreed with Cassiopeia that it was desirable that his younger self stopped the persecution of Mudbloods and Muggles. After all, they were less worthy, weren't they? Tom flinched slightly. He knew that, no matter how much he disliked the thought, there was a chance that Cassiopeia had actually told the truth about her ancestry, and he knew he didn't want to believe that she was less worthy than any of his pure-blooded Death Eaters, no matter how impure her blood might be.

Tom cursed under his breath. He had come to the past because he had wanted to regain his sanity. And if, in the course of achieving this, he would, by chance, have managed to avoid killing her, he would have been content. But on no account had he intended to change the course of his way to power and domination, on no account had he intended to change…everything.

* * *

When Cassiopeia had left, Tom suppressed the strong desire to make someone pay for his pain, although he actually wanted nothing more than to make someone else feel the same immense pain and frustrating confusion he was experiencing right now.

He was truly struggling with the story she had told him. His whole world depended on the ultimate belief in the superiority of wizarding blood and the consequential inferiority of Muggle-borns. He had cultivated this worldview for as long as he could remember. It had been the first thing to learn after having been sorted into Slytherin. There was nothing more disgusting than tainted blood.

All the things she had prompted him to say had been right, and he would have willingly spat all of that at any other Mudblood. And yet something inside of him still vehemently refused to consider her inferior just because of her blood heritage. After all, she was still the same as before, she had not changed. He pursed his lips and furiously slammed his fist against the wall.

* * *

When Cassiopeia was lying in her bed that night, she felt truly awful. She hated the thought that Tom had actually been ready to believe so easily that she had been keeping the truth from him for so many years, that she had somehow built their relation on a lie.

She knew it had been the last chance she had had to make any difference to this war, and she had to admit that obviously it had the potential to actually work. She knew she should be relieved that there was still a slight chance that the world wasn't going to go down in flames, but instead she only felt guilty.

She felt guilty for lying to Tom, for misleading him, for deceiving him.

Suddenly, she desperately wanted to be with him and feel his warmth. She wanted this nightmare to end. She wanted things to be easy, if only this once.

She stared at the faint mark, that was covering her forearm, and she pressed her lips together. She knew she had doubtlessly more than exceeded the limit today already, and it would probably be wise if she rather lay low, but knowing that there was almost nothing more left to destroy made her feel reckless.

With trembling fingers she took her wand and slowly pointed it at the mark. When she poked the tip of her wand into the flesh of her forearm, the mark turned jet black.

She knew Tom would feel its burning. She exhaled slowly and went to the window, waiting.

* * *

She sensed him before she saw him. He was standing so close behind her, she could feel his breath on her skin.

"What is it?" His voice was low and almost toneless.

Cassiopeia slowly turned around. She looked into his eyes. They were deadly black and frighteningly empty. Cassiopeia swallowed.

Finally she whispered hoarsely, "I don't want this anymore. I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want to save the world anymore. All I ever wanted was to be with you. And yet, all I did was to push you away from me. I did what I did because I love you, but now I wish I hadn't. I wanted none of this."

Tom stared at her for a moment. Then he suddenly pushed her against the wall and pressed his lips against hers, taking her breath away. Cassiopeia closed her eyes and pulled him close. She felt a wave of recklessness wash over her.

She didn't know how they got to her bed, and she didn't remember who made the first move, but she knew she had never experienced more passion, and she had never seen Tom less guarded. For once it felt as if there was no tomorrow, it felt as if nothing mattered any more.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Thank you so much for reading, following, favoriting and reviewing! You really make my day :-)**


	15. Perception

**Chapter Fifteen - Perception**

Tom never mentioned Cassiopeia's ancestry ever again. Yet, her reckless attempt to make a difference to his opinion had not failed. Grudgingly, he relented and agreed to spare innocent victims that had not been battling against him. He even promised to stop his malicious attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns and fight only those who entered the war.

Cassiopeia knew that was all she could expect, and for once she felt, as if she had done everything she could to save the world. After all, she had risked a lot. She had sacrificed a lot.

The older Tom felt torn. He didn't quite agree with the way things were developing but he was at a loss for an idea how to change things. He had contemplated going further back in time again, but actually he didn't want to mess with time any more. After all, there was no denying that quite some things had actually changed for the better. He was still sane, his mind was still sharp and clear, he was powerful and strong, and Cassiopeia was still alive.

* * *

Tom stayed true to his promise and didn't attack defenceless innocents any more. He concentrated on infiltrating the wizarding government again and successfully undermined it from within, using his strategically positioned Death Eaters and their allies, until, in the end, he finally gained control over the ministry.

Tom was content. Things were going just as he had planned.

With the ministry on his side Tom was finally able to start concentrating on the last remaining bastion of his enemies and the one target that had always mattered most to him – Hogwarts.

After all, Hogwarts was where he had been happiest; the first and only place he had ever truly felt at home.

Tom wanted control over the school, and most of all Tom wanted Dumbledore to be driven out of the castle. He wanted to finally get rid of the one man whom he hated so much, the one man whom he still feared.

Yet it was obvious that Dumbledore would never surrender Hogwarts to Tom's control. Tom was well aware that there was going to be no other way than to confront Dumbledore and defeat him if he wanted control over the school. But despite his usual determination and fearlessness Tom was hesitating.

Cassiopeia and Tom were sitting in Tom's lair. Cassiopeia leant back in her armchair and eyed Tom curiously.

"Are you really still afraid of Dumbledore?" Her voice was inquiring. "I know he was a risk back then when you were still pretending to be nice. But by now probably no one remembers charming Tom Riddle anymore, and everyone knows that Lord Voldemort is the epitome of darkness and danger. So Dumbledore's no threat any longer, is he?"

Tom pursed his lips and gazed at his wand but remained silent.

Cassiopeia kept watching him and wondered what he was thinking. She knew that Tom had always been wary of Dumbledore and that he had hated him for the fact that Dumbledore had mistrusted him since their first meeting in the orphanage. But she didn't understand why Tom kept holding his grudge against Dumbledore because, after all, Dumbledore had been quite right about Tom all along. Of course that had been inconvenient when he had still been at school, but by now Tom wasn't taking the trouble to disguise his character any more. Granted, he still had his looks and probably this kept making things easier. Yet it certainly were no longer his looks that made him get his way but the unbounded power and unscrupulous cruelty of his magic. Despite his looks no one mistook Lord Voldemort for Prince Charming any more. And by now there were only Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix standing between Tom and Hogwarts.

Tom twirled his wand between his fingers. Actually he didn't know either why he still feared Dumbledore. Thinking about it, Dumbledore had always been a little unsettling, and Tom was no fool. It was obvious that Dumbledore was undoubtedly a powerful wizard. It had certainly taken quite a lot of magical talent to defeat Grindelwald back then in that famous duel. After all, Grindelwald had not been a stupid troublemaker but a capable wizard whom lots of others hadn't been able to defeat. He had taken down several governments before he had finally been stopped by Dumbledore.

There had been various rumours as to why Dumbledore had taken so long to confront Grindelwald but the true reason had never been revealed. Tom had always wondered what had kept him away all those years and what had happened to make him change his mind in the end. He had come to the conclusion that it had ultimately been the danger to Hogwarts that had made Dumbledore act at last. Hogwarts' safety had always been Dumbledore's first priority.

Yet it was strange that the man who didn't tire of proclaiming love and peace had stood by for so long, watching Grindelwald ruin so many lives. There had to be more to it, and it irked Tom that he didn't know what it was. This uncertainty also was the main reason why he was still wary of Dumbledore. The older wizard had always had the uncanny ability to make Tom feel like Dumbledore knew things he didn't. Originally, Tom had liked to dismiss these thoughts, but then there had been that strange night so long ago, when he had actually had to ask Dumbledore for help and had finally had to realize that there were kinds of magic he had been completely oblivious of.

Ever since that night, somewhere deep inside, he had harboured the fear that there might be further aspects of magic he still didn't know of. He had dedicated himself to obsessive reading and studying for more than two decades, excessively travelling, exploring and experimenting in order to make sure there were no fields of magic that remained unknown to him. He was quite confident that he knew more about magic than anyone else, yet maybe with the exception of Dumbledore. Tom gritted his teeth.

* * *

It took Tom plenty of scheming before he decided on how to proceed in his quest to gain control over Hogwarts. Finally, he advanced on Hogwarts with only his most inner circle of Death Eaters, aiming at surprising Dumbledore. He knew the members of the Order would be ready to fight, but he counted on his Death Eaters to be able to handle that, giving him the opportunity to deal with Dumbledore alone. After all, he knew that Dumbledore would never risk any other's life if he could help it, being the inveterate selfless hero he was.

So far things had gone just as planned. Tom had come across Dumbledore in the hall, and they were alone, standing at opposite sides of the room, their wands drawn. However, neither of them had cast a curse yet.

Tom narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore returned Tom's stare, a stern look in his eyes. "I will never willingly stand by and let you ruin this school, Tom. You will have to defeat me first."

"Why do you always keep expecting the worst of me?" Tom asked, raising an eyebrow.

There was a short pause before Dumbledore answered gravely, "Probably because you always proved me right." He cocked his head slightly.

Tom laughed, and it sounded cold and cruel. "It's truly not my intention to ruin this school. I'm going to make it greater than it ever was."

"Our opinions on what is to be considered greatness really differ significantly." There was a hint of sadness in Dumbledore's otherwise calm voice.

The door creaked, and Dumbledore and Tom turned to see Cassiopeia enter the hall, her wand in her hand.

Tom narrowed his eyes. "I thought I'd told you to stay out of this." His voice sounded annoyed.

Cassiopeia returned his gaze. "I thought that by now you'd know that I prefer not to obey orders," she retorted.

Dumbledore looked at her, disappointment shining in his eyes. "Miss Houlton," he stated. "I had really expected better of you."

Cassiopeia pursed her lips. Tom narrowed his eyes even further, throwing a suspicious glance at Cassiopeia and Dumbledore.

"I had truly hoped you'd change Tom, not that Tom would change you," Dumbledore continued, eyeing them warily.

Tom's gaze fixed on Cassiopeia. "What's this all about?"

Cassiopeia didn't reply.

Instead Dumbledore answered, "I once thought that Miss Houlton had the ability to succeed in stopping your disastrous ambition to destroy this world. It seems I was mistaken about her powers."

Tom's eyes narrowed again, and he hissed, "You agreed to betray me?" His hand tightened around his wand. With slight frustration he realized that Cassiopeia didn't pay him any attention.

She was glaring at Dumbledore, ignoring Tom's piercing gaze. Her voice was low and steady when she replied, "I'd say it rather seems you were mistaken about my loyalties, sir. I was long lost to Tom's darkness when you asked me to change him. And I never wanted him to change." After a moment she added, "But even if you won't believe me, I can assure you that this world is nevertheless not as dark as it might have been."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

Cassiopeia turned to look at Tom. "You think I agreed to betray you? No, Tom, I've been honest with you from the very beginning. I didn't hide anything from you. I never lied to you, ever, not even when I asked you to imagine I were someone I'm not, for the sake of this world." She paused a moment before she continued, "You were frighteningly ready to accept that I hadn't shared the truth with you, even though this 'truth' would have changed everything for you. You were painfully ready to accept that I had betrayed you all along. And now you are painfully ready to believe that again." She slowly shook her head. "It really hurts that you still don't trust me. But I never betrayed you, and I will always fight for you. I wonder when you're finally going to believe me." She sounded resigned.

Tom stared back at her. Slowly, the familiar smirk spread across Tom's face, and a glint appeared in his dark eyes that had been gone for a long time.

For a moment Tom and Cassiopeia looked at each other, and she felt herself be drawn in again by the indescribable beauty of his dark bottomless eyes.

Then Tom turned back to Dumbledore. "Well then, Dumbledore, so be it. We'll settle this in a duel. Let's see who's going to win."

Without warning Tom flicked his wand at Cassiopeia, sending her falling to the floor and skidding across the room. Then he brandished his wand at Dumbledore, starting the fight.

Cassiopeia stared at Tom and gasped in frustration when she realized that he had cast some magical barrier, shielding her from their duel, thus protecting her from their curses but also rendering her unable to intervene.

From the side of the hall she could do nothing but watch them duel fiercely.

They seemed to be quite evenly matched. Despite the harshness with which they kept throwing curses at each other it somehow seemed that they were even enjoying the duel.

After a while Tom laughed. Without stopping his attacks, he called, "Still not using dark magic, Dumbledore? Above such brutality, are you?"

"I simply don't rely on the Dark Arts as much as you do, Tom." Dumbledore smiled, countering his curse.

Tom smirked and threw another curse at Dumbledore. "I don't rely on the Dark Arts. I rely on the power of magic. You'd be surprised. I know more about magic than you expect."

"Of some kinds of magic, Tom, of some, I'm sure. Of others I fear you remain woefully ignorant." Dumbledore threw a disappointed glance at Cassiopeia and hurled a curse at Tom.

Tom's smirk grew wider, and he deflected Dumbledore's curse. "Are you sure?" His voice was slightly teasing.

Slowly, Cassiopeia felt Tom's shield subside, and she scrambled to her feet, unnoticed by Dumbledore and Tom who were completely absorbed in their duel.

Tom glared at Dumbledore, and for once his face showed all the hatred and contempt he felt for the man opposite him.

Their duel had by now taken its toll on the hall. They had reduced the interior to ruins with all the powerful curses they had used.

Tom wondered what Dumbledore was aiming at. The older wizard had cast various curses that were truly dangerous and that had held the power to incapacitate him, but Dumbledore had not tried to kill him. Tom had accepted the challenge and had tried winning with ingenious curses of his own, but by now he had grown tired of coming up with further creative curses. He wanted to get this over with at last, and after all, the one curse that had become second nature to him had never forsaken him so far.

Tom slashed his wand at Dumbledore again, hissing the fatal words that were intended to end the older wizard's life.

Dumbledore stared at the blinding green light that was soaring towards him. He shortly frowned at the ordinariness of this plain attempt on his life, but he knew Tom had a liking for the Killing Curse, having used it excessively along the way.

Dumbledore brandished his wand, and with the power of the Elder Wand he accomplished what no other wand would ever have been able to – he deflected the curse, sending it back at Tom.

Cassiopeia and Tom stared at the curse's light, and time seemed to slow down.

Cassiopeia's heart exploded in excruciating pain when she saw the deathly curse being redirected at Tom.

Staring at the rebounding curse, she wondered whether this was how it was finally going to end, whether this was the world's chance to get rid of the evil that was tormenting it, whether this was her chance at redemption.

Even though the curse would not be able to kill Tom, it would destroy his body, it would rip him apart and leave him shattered.

Cassiopeia exhaled. She knew that if this was her chance at redemption, she was not ready to pay the price.

Without thinking twice she threw herself in the way of the rebounding curse.

Tom's eyes grew wide when he realized what she was intending. He shook his head almost unnoticeably, and in the split second before the curse could hit Cassiopeia he flicked his wand again, sending her soaring through the room and against the wall.

Dumbledore stared unbelieving at the scene that was unfolding before his eyes. He couldn't quite grasp what he was seeing. It was already hard to believe that anyone was insane enough to save Lord Voldemort from being struck by his own lethal curse, but it was even more incredible that Lord Voldemort would willingly prevent this, thus inevitably having to take the rebounding curse himself.

Dumbledore frowned. The foolish girl had actually been ready to give her life for Tom and, unbelievably, Tom had been ready to risk his own to spare her. Dumbledore had to admit that he would never have thought any of that possible.

And then the curse hit.

Tom felt his own Killing Curse explode in his chest, making him fall backwards. From the corner of his eye he could see Dumbledore fall as well, silently crumpling to the ground, a look of true surprise in his eyes, the hall still being bathed in subsiding green light, before Tom's vision went black.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Thanks so much for reading, following, favoriting and, most of all, reviewing :-)**


	16. Epilogue

The man, who was standing in the shadows, slowly lowered his wand.

The hall was finally filled with deathly silence.

The man watched the three bodies lying on the hall's floor. For once he was truly surprised. Surprised that he had actually managed to catch Dumbledore off guard. Surprised that Cassiopeia had actually been ready to sacrifice herself for him once again. And, most of all, surprised that he himself had actually cared enough to stop her.

His gaze fell on Dumbledore's body on the floor. A frown crossed his face. Why had Dumbledore been able to deflect a curse that was unblockable? How had he accomplished what was supposed to be impossible? Somehow it had seemed as if he had been determined not to be defeated, and then he had actually succeeded in mastering the impossible.

Suddenly a thought shot through his mind. Could it be...? The children's tale had been right once. It might just be right once again. The Resurrection Stone had been real. So why shouldn't the Wand of Destiny be real as well?

A greedy gleam appeared in his eyes, but he hesitated. He shot a gaze at the other two unmoving bodies in the hall, his mind racing. If he took the wand from Dumbledore, they would know they had not been alone. But if he left it with Dumbledore, would they be able to realize the true origin of the old man's wand? Would they know it for what it was?

He pursed his lips. If his younger self gained the Elder Wand he might finally be truly invincible. He knew he had to decide quickly. He glanced at Cassiopeia, remembering her words from earlier. She had accused him of still not being able to trust her. He narrowed his eyes. Somehow her words had stung.

He drew a deep breath and made up his mind. He would rely on her this time. She would come to the right conclusions about Dumbledore's wand. After all, she had never forsaken him.

He reached into his pocket and carefully touched the rings of the time-turner.

He knew that it was finally time to return.

x-x-x-x

Cassiopeia felt every inch of her body hurting. Tom's curse had sent her crashing into the wall with enough force to make every bone in her body break. With a lot of effort Cassiopeia raised her head and saw Dumbledore and Tom lying on the floor. Her heart clenched painfully. Gritting her teeth, she slowly scrambled to her knees and crawled over to where Tom was lying, trying to ignore the piercing pain that was surging through every inch of her body.

Tom was looking peaceful, but his face was ashen. Cassiopeia stared at his body, not daring to touch him, being far too afraid of what she might find. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. She would have to touch him eventually.

Her hand was trembling heavily when she finally reached out and tried to feel his pulse. His wrist was as cold as ice. With shaking fingers she searched for any sign of life. The seconds seemed to stretch endlessly.

She was just about to withdraw her hand when she finally felt a faint response against her fingers. A wave of unlimited relief washed over her when she realized that his heart was still beating. She buried her face in his chest, unable to hold back her tears any longer. Slowly all the strain left her. Tom's robes got stained by her tears, while she hunched over his unconscious body, crying silently.

x-x-x-x

When Tom regained consciousness, he felt a sharp pain in his head and a heavy weight on his chest. His mind was racing. He couldn't quite believe that he had actually let himself get hit by his own Killing Curse. He didn't understand what had gotten into him. He couldn't have been in his right mind to act so foolishly. He had known that the curse wasn't going to kill him because of his Horcruxes, but it had been bound to destroy his body. It had been bound to rip him apart. Doubtlessly, that would have been disastrous enough.

And yet it obviously hadn't happened. He frowned and slowly propped himself up on his elbows.

He saw Cassiopeia hunching over him, clearly explaining the heavy weight on his chest. When she felt him move, she raised her head as well, tears glinting in her eyes.

Tom stared at her as if seeing her for the very first time.

He was still not quite able to grasp that he had actually risked everything to save her damn life. And yet an inexplicable and unlimited warmth flooded his body, knowing that she was still with him, that she was still alive.

Tom slowly grew aware of his robes being soaked in her tears. He frowned slightly.

"Why are you crying? You see, I'm immortal, after all." His voice sounded strange, as if he hadn't used it in a long time, but his lips twitched into a small smirk.

Cassiopeia's voice was hoarse when she replied, "I know."

"So you're crying because I'm alive?" Tom quirked an eyebrow.

Cassiopeia slowly wiped away her tears with her sleeve. "I'm crying because of...everything."

Tom slightly shook his head. Then he squinted across the room. Dumbledore was still lying on the floor.

Tom wondered what had happened. Obviously, he himself had been hit by his own Killing Curse, but then what had happened to Dumbledore? And why had Dumbledore been able to deflect the Killing Curse in the first place? It was supposed to be unblockable, after all, and as far as Tom could tell from experience it had always been.

"What happened to him?" Tom's voice was inquiring.

Cassiopeia glanced at Dumbledore. "I don't know." After a moment she added, "I thought the curse was going to destroy your body."

Tom frowned again. "Yes, I guess it should have."

Cassiopeia's gaze shot back at Tom, surprise evident in her eyes. "You thought so, too?"

Tom looked back at her. When their eyes met, she instinctively knew that he had actually been expecting it as well.

Cassiopeia stared back into his eyes. She felt the world start spinning around her. There was only one thought inside her mind. Tom hadn't known that the curse wouldn't damage him. He hadn't known, and still he had let himself get hit by the curse. He had risked everything to save her.

Cassiopeia closed her eyes, trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill. Suddenly, her mind was strangely empty. There were only two words ringing in her head, again and again. He cared.

When she opened her eyes again, she could see that he knew it as well. But he desperately tried to hide it.

Cassiopeia turned to look back at Dumbledore. Finally, she slowly crawled over to where he was lying and tried to feel his pulse. A strange sadness took hold of her when she could feel none.

"He's dead," she whispered, turning back to Tom.

A smile spread across Tom's face, and Cassiopeia quickly averted her eyes. For the first time ever she couldn't bear seeing him smile this genuine smile.

Tom slowly got up and walked over to where she was kneeling. When he was standing right beside her, he crouched down and raised his eyebrows.

Cassiopeia looked back at Tom. The smile was gone. His face was a blank mask again.

Tom looked at Dumbledore and his voice was completely even when he said, "I wonder what happened. He shouldn't have been able to deflect my curse. It almost seemed as if he wasn't able to accept defeat."

Something in his words sounded familiar to Cassiopeia but she couldn't quite lay her finger on what it was.

She was still watching Dumbledore's lifeless body when her gaze finally fell on his bony hand that was clenched tightly around his wand. And suddenly she knew why Tom's words had sounded familiar.

With a slightly trembling voice Cassiopeia whispered, "It's his wand."

Tom raised his eyebrow. "His wand?"

"The Elder Wand." Cassiopeia's voice was barely audible.

She carefully took the wand from Dumbledore's fingers. "It's one of the Deathly Hallows."

A look of greed flashed through Tom's eyes. "Do you really think they exist?"

Cassiopeia shrugged and examined the wand. "They're legendary, but why shouldn't they be real? And the wand is said to not allow being defeated. That would explain Dumbledore's extraordinary deflection of your Killing Curse, wouldn't it?"

Tom pondered her words for a moment. Then he held out his hand for the wand. "Let me have a look."

The moment his fingers touched the wand, he felt the warmth of the wand wash through his arm. It felt right. "I should be its new master, shouldn't I?"

"I'd say that depends on what killed Dumbledore."

Tom examined the wand closely and suddenly a thought struck him. He nodded slowly. "Yes, what killed him, or maybe who did it..." His voice trailed away. Cassiopeia threw him a curious glance.

Tom ignored the unspoken question. Instead he twirled the wand in his fingers, relishing the comfortable warmth it was radiating into his skin, and smirked, "I guess it's mine." After a moment he added. "Who would have thought that Dumbledore possessed the Elder Wand all that time?"

Cassiopeia turned to look back at Dumbledore and suddenly she felt sad, seeing the old man lying there.

Tom's voice was emotionless but his characteristic smirk graced his features when he whispered, "Don't mourn the old man. He should have known better than to confront me. But maybe he just wasn't that wise. After all, he was wrong about us all along."

Tom knelt there beside her, and Cassiopeia felt his magic reach out to her, carefully comforting her and making her feel warm again. His hand brushed casually against hers, and her skin burned under his touch.

A small smile flickered across her face. No matter how cold and dark he was, he still had the power to set her heart on fire and light up her world.

And suddenly she knew she was long past redemption. She was falling, and maybe one day she would hit the ground hard. But he was there, he was with her, and he was right, Dumbledore had been wrong about them all along. Tom was not only capable of caring, he actually cared. In the end he had cared enough to even risk his body to save her, and her love for him had been strong enough to protect him.

They looked into each other's eyes. Tom leaned closer to her, and his lips gently touched hers. When he pulled her close, he felt warm and strangely content. A smirk crossed his face. He had always known that she was special, and he had been right. The fact, that she was still alive and his body still sound, was all the proof he needed.

x-x-x-x

 **Author's note:** **Thanks so much for keeping with the story and reading until the end! It means a lot to me and I appreciate every follow, favourite and review that you wonderful people left for the story! You are great!**


	17. Stolen Time

If she was honest she had always known there wasn't going to be any happily ever after.

She had known it from the very beginning.

And still, somewhere deep inside, she had harboured the hope that even in darkness there might exist happiness. Lasting happiness.

But darkness is consuming.

Darkness is inexorable.

And darkness is lasting. Everlasting.

x-x-x-x

 **Author's note (updated Sept. 10th, 2018):** **I started posting a sequel to Perception! It's called "Stolen Time". Please take the time to check it out and let me know what you think! Every feedback makes me so happy :) Thanks again for reading, you are all totally awesome!**


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